Vanished
by C. Fitz
Summary: Almost two years have passed since the curse broke over Storybrooke and the fight with the Evil Queen continues. In the wrong place at the wrong time, Belle is torn from her home and her new husband, finding herself in a part of Fairy Tale Land she never knew existed. How can she ever find her way back? A/U follows 'Emergence' .
1. Chapter 1

"Watch your feet, Henry." Thomas instructed, moving in slowly with wooden sword drawn, giving Henry time to adjust his stance. "Shoulder width apart. Good, now move - and relax!"

"Easy for you to say." Henry grumbled as their 'blades' crossed.

Sitting on the side lines on oversized pillows, Belle and Red interjected with encouragement for the young prince, who seemed less than enthusiastic about learning that particular 'royal skill'. But he wasn't bad and Belle would much rather cheer the boy on than slog on through a magic book she had swiped from Rumpelstiltskin's library. She could relate to Henry's displeasure, though; spinning and embroidery had not been her favourite part of learning the 'royal arts'. But at Henry's age, Belle would've given anything to discard the gowns for breeches and learn to wield a sword like the heroes in her novels did. She still would, even now; Rumpelstiltskin would probably have a heart attack.

"That's enough for today. Good job, Henry." Thomas wiped the sweat from his forehead and collected the 'sword' that Henry thrust into his hands as he passed on his way to where she was sitting.

"Hey, Belle." Henry grinned, by-passing Red's vacated pillow and dropping onto the floor at Belle's feet. He poked the book lying open in her lap. "Whatcha readin'?"

"Nothing much." she smiled, casually placing her hands over the thin pages of the small, leather bound book. "Great work, today, kiddo. Your granddad ought to be pleased." switching the topic didn't always work with Henry, but he wrinkled his nose at the mention of his grandfather. "You're not enjoying it?"

"Not really, I can think of other things I'd rather do."

"I understand that. When I was a kid, they made me learn _sewing_." she pretended to retch and Henry giggled.

"What did _you _want to do?"

"I mostly wanted to be left alone with my books, but I would've loved to have learned to use a sword." Belle said dreamily.

"Your father wouldn't let you?" having been raised by strong willed women like Regina and Emma, he didn't quite understand a place that would place limitations on females; in his land, they were the equals of men, perhaps even superior.

"Oh no; become a lady knight? Wearing breeches, riding astride instead of side saddle? It just wasn't _done_. Not where I grew up, anyway –" she trailed off as Henry ran over to a closet and came back with the wooden swords; he thrust one into Belle's reluctant hands. "What are you doing?"

"_En garde_!" Henry jabbed the air in front of her and then hopped over to the open area where he and Thomas had been fighting. Belle just stared at the 'sword' in her hands, basically a nicely polished, large stick; it felt good. "I'm not so sure about this, Henry."

"Why not? You just said you always wanted to." Henry's voice full of the exasperation that only a child can muster; the 'problem' and the 'solution' were very black and white to him. With a glance to the other adults in the room, who were paying them no mind, Belle rose from the pillow and crossed the floor to stand across from him.

Henry walked and talked her through all of the basic instruction that she had heard Thomas give to him over the last few weeks, showing her the posture she needed to have and patiently correcting her when it was needed. Finally, Henry deemed her 'ready' for a simple drill and now he stood across from her with an impish grin on his face; he was poised to strike. Belle swallowed nervously; what was she getting herself into?

"Are you scared of a ten year old or are you just nervous that your husband might pop into the middle of the room and see this?" the 'other' Belle reared her ugly little head. She gritted her teeth at her 'inside' voice, resolving to ignore her. Belle had just enough time to push a stray piece of hair off of her face before Henry advanced on her. Still the patient instructor and lacking the impulsive competitiveness of boys, Henry gave her time to parry his blows and shouting at her to riposte; probably to make it seem more fair. There was laughter around them from the small audience their lesson had attracted, James, Snow and Thomas with Ella; but Belle had no time to feel embarrassed; she was too focused on not getting smacked with a stick. After a few close calls, Belle caught on and, using the simple moves that she'd been taught, began to hold her own. Their lesson ended in a stalemate after a few minutes, both of them rosy cheeked, panting and confused by the smattering of applause.

"Well done, Belle! I didn't know you were a swordswoman." James clapped his hand on her shoulder after she had collapsed onto the floor pillow.

"Ha! I'm not, but thank you. I have a good teacher." She winked at Henry who had just walked back from the storage closet.

"I'm sure Rumpelstiltskin would just _love_ it if you took more training." Red grinned wolfishly.

"I'm sure." she deadpanned, retrieving the book and her handbag from the floor. "I ought to get home and start hunting down old bed linens for bandages, unless Baelfire returns with the supplies tonight." They were dangerously low on basic first aid supplies; gauze, peroxide and band aids had all but vanished from the store rooms of Storybrooke.

"Let me know when he returns? I'd like to have some idea of what he was able to get, if anything; a detailed list can wait until tomorrow." James helped her to her feet and into her winter coat.

"Sure thing, I'll call." Belle headed for the door, worn out from the physical activity and eager to get home and into bed, perhaps skipping supper and going straight to the pajamas. Red jogged over in her fur coat and linked arms with Belle. "Hey, I'll walk ya home."

Arm in arm, the two left the school and trekked into the early winter night on their way home.


	2. Chapter 2

It had begun to snow again on the walk home and Belle and Red tumbled through the front door covered in flakes and looking a little bit like yetis. They hung their coats and shook out as best they could on their way to the kitchen. Belle grabbed glasses from a cupboard, and then opened a bottle of sparkling wine with a loud _pop_. She set a bubbling, gold glass in front of Red and then slid in across the table with her own glass; the bottle of wine sat between them.

"Been raiding his wine cellar again?" Red made a face as she sipped, she was really not a wine girl; beer and sometimes cocktails, but most wines tasted the same to her.

"Not this time." Belle swirled her glass around, listening to the fizz. "I had Bae pick up a few bottles of this the last time he was out of town. Rumpelstiltskin doesn't 'do' sparkling wines." she lifted her glass with pinky finger pointed out to complete her uncanny impersonation of the sorcerer. They both giggled and sipped their wine in companionable silence. She and Red often spent their time together quietly, neither having much of interest to say to the other, but the company was still enjoyed; Belle provided alcohol and a listening ear when Red did want to talk and Belle found it comforting to have Red's wolfy protection.

"And hey, what about your suspicion of Red having a 'thing' for your step-son." the 'other' Belle reminded her. "That might have a lot to do with the amount of time she spends with you."

Belle clenched her jaw and attempted to tune out her 'alter ego'; what did she care for Red's real motivation in this friendship? For her, it meant that she could still go out without Rumpelstiltskin employing some sort of guard she didn't know; she didn't fancy having a stranger trail after her everywhere.

"So how's married life treating you?" Red asked, breaking the silence.

Belle sighed "It's fine, just as it was the last time you asked me." Someone different asked her this questions at least once a week, to which she would reply that it was treating her great thank-you-very-much. Most of the inquisitors knew that Rumpelstiltskin was away, so she wasn't sure what kind of answer they were expecting.

Perhaps they were waiting for her to admit that she had made a mistake in marrying someone like him; secretive, scheming, methodical, some even might say diabolical. And the gap in their ages seemed prohibitive to some (it bothered her father, certainly), even though Belle was closer to thirty than she wanted to admit; without factoring in his curse, Rumpelstiltskin was still fifteen to twenty years older than her.

"It's been at least six months since the wedding; I thought people would be used to it by now."

"Well, as long as you're happy." Red drained her glass, shaking her head when Belle picked up the bottle to pour her more wine.

"I _am_. I _am_ happy and if you really believed that, you wouldn't fish for hints of discord in my relationship." Belle pulled the book and a couple of wrinkled pieces of paper from her handbag; lists of medical supplies for her to look for.

Catching a glimpse of the worn leather cover, Red frowned. "What is that book, Belle? Is that a magic book?"

"Oh, this? Yeah, it is. I've run out of new reading material here and if he knew that, he'd redouble his efforts to convince me that moving to the castle would be wiser." Belle slid the book under her bag and smoothed out the paper lists in front of her.

"He wants you to move? That probably isn't a bad idea." Red stared at the bottom of her glass; if Rumpelstiltskin convinced his wife to relocate to the Enchanted Forest, would he send his son with her? "Does he know you're reading that?"

"He hasn't been home in weeks – so, no. What's the problem?" she stared at an uncomfortable looking Red; did magic make her so squeamish or was the problem with Belle who, by living with Rumpelstiltskin, had developed a rather casual attitude toward it.

"I thought you disliked magic, though. Isn't that what you two argued about a lot early on?"

Belle shrugged and played absently with her wedding rings. Before the curse over the town had broken, Belle hated magic and what it had done to Rumpelstiltskin; she hated the curse of the Dark One, the evil that had overtaken his soul. But he had given it up after finding Baelfire, if indeed it had taken hold again at all; left in its place was still a great reservoir of power and magic simply became a part of her life.

"All magic has a price, Belle, isn't that what Rumpelstiltskin is always going on about? Are you willing to pay the price?" Red had drifted from her chair to the front hallway to retrieve her coat. She must have given up hope that Baelfire would return today and it was time for her to get home. It was full night now, deep and inky black. The sky was moonless and the only light came from the orange glow of the street lamps; the perfect night for the dark creatures of Regina's creation to stalk the streets for prey.

"Thanks for walking me home, Red." She gave her bundled up friend a quick hug, Red's coat was still damp from earlier; she smelled a little like a wet dog and Belle stifled a giggle. "I'll tell Bae that you came by." she called after Red who had already hopped down the steps and onto the snowy path.

She pushed the door shut and went through the ritual of sliding the new locks in place, four in all in addition to the regular locks; he had definitely gone overboard. If Regina or her magicked minions wanted through this door, six locks were not going to stop them. There was magic in a couple of them and in the door itself, his magic. Belle could feel it humming in the wood as she had pressed against it. Still, it wouldn't stop the creatures if they wanted in here badly enough.

The week before Rumpelstiltskin had left on his present trip, the creatures had busted their way into Dr. Hopper's house. Hungry and desperate and finding no one human at home to sate themselves, they fell onto Archie's dog. Pongo's remains were discovered later that night, bones scattered throughout the house and on the snowy steps. Rumpelstiltskin told her the creatures thrived on fear and feasted on blood and flesh. Belle shivered; she was not in the mood to become monster kibble, ever.

The sound of the refrigerator slamming made Belle jump and, heart racing, she padded through the house to discover the source of the noise. She was the only one home and all the doors were locked. Only Rumpelstiltskin could come and go using magic; was he finally home?

"Bae?" she peeked around the door frame to find her step-son raiding the cupboards in his stocking feet. When had he come home?

"I've been home for about an hour or two, I parked out back." He answered Belle's unspoken question. "There's no food in the house, what on earth have you been eating?"

"No, because you ate it all before you drove to Boston." Belle leaned against the counter, arms folded across her chest. "And Granny's been feeding me after my shifts with the nuns." She watched him retrieve a bowl and pour himself some cereal that was at least a month old. "If you've been home for so long, why didn't you come upstairs? Is it because Ruby was here?"

"Is my father back yet?" Baelfire changed the topic and poured some milk. She crossed to the table to grab her things and take care of the wine glasses. "No, not yet, but I wish he'd hurry up and come home." Belle said, smiling thinly. "Make sure you check the locks on the back doors. I think I'm going to bed."

"So soon?" he asked around a mouthful of cereal. "It's not even seven o'clock."

"I want a hot bath and a good book more than anything right now." She waved the book a little and hurried to the stairs before he could examine it further. Baelfire probably wouldn't care that she had started working through his father's magical texts; she had often talked about her feelings of helplessness and general uselessness with him. Knowing a little bit of magic, even if it was just manipulating energy to create light or start a fire, made her feel like she could contribute something. Rumpelstiltskin, on the other hand, she couldn't be sure about, but it was usually safe to assume that anything that might draw attention to her would cause him to panic. He had paid a high price for his magic and was probably paying it still, somehow; what if the price she paid for hers tore them apart again?

She scurried around the bedroom, drawing the heavy drapes against the chill and ran into the bathroom to start the bath water. Once it was steaming, Belle went back into the bedroom to fetch her flannel housecoat; all of her muscles ached from the lesson with Henry and she couldn't wait to slip into the hot water. Belle grinned stupidly, remembering the exhilaration of learning the basics of sword combat; she couldn't wait to try it again and work her way up to using a real weapon instead of a stick.

"Between the magic and the sword fighting, you're becoming quite the rebel." the 'other' Belle looked down her upturned nose at her.

"I'm not rebelling against anything. There are no rules that say I cannot do either of those things." she slipped out of her skirt and blouse and threw the flannel on before a chill could take hold. The tub had filled quickly and after turning off the water and locking herself into the bathroom, Belle shed the housecoat and stepped carefully into the bath, inhaling sharply as she eased into the scalding hot water. "But when the final battle with Regina begins, I want to be able to do my part. I've had enough of being shut away for my own good."

The 'other' Belle inclined her head and faded into the background. Even she couldn't argue with that line of reasoning; 'other' Belle was often the one egging her into more decisive action and confrontations.

"I'll tell him when he returns." she promised, sinking further into the water as her muscles relaxed. "I'd rather he not hear – anything from someone other than me." Belle inhaled deeply, feeling the steamy air fill her lungs; she closed her eyes and let her mind wander. "I'll tell him." she mumbled once more before falling asleep in the tub.


	3. Chapter 3

The next few days passed by in a flurry of activity as the Charming faction and their allies finalized plans for a new offensive. Belle had spent much of her time at the school with the nuns; they set up a shelter for stranded families, a make shift hospital and surgery for the wounded and stocked the kitchen with non-perishable food. With all of that taken care of, Belle was back at home, trying to relax. She sat on the bed with legs stretched out, gently rubbing lotion over the dark bruise just under her knee; the third ugly welt she had come home with since Thomas had begun teaching her as well.

Belle froze as a loud creak on the stairs reached her ears; as far as she knew, Baelfire was out and she was the only one home. Carefully, quietly, she retrieved a small handgun from the bedside table and, hands shaking, pointed it at the door.

"You're not going to hit me shaking like that, dearie." Rumpelstiltskin eased into the room, crossing to the bed to remove the weapon from Belle's hand.

"I'm just a little wound up." the air rushed out of her and she crumpled into his arms. "Don't creep through the house like that again." Belle buried her face in the lace of his shirt, willing her heart to return to a normal pace; he stroked her hair gently.

"I popped in through the study. Is Baelfire here?"

Belle shook her head. "I haven't seen him since I've been home. How was your trip?" pulling away, she cleared the bed of her books and bottle of lotion; a frown flickered across Rumpelstiltskin's face. "What?" she asked.

Wordlessly, he pushed her back onto the bed and grabbed her bruised leg; Belle opened her mouth to explain but he silenced her with a look. Underneath Rumpelstiltskin's hands the bruise pulsed like a heartbeat and was intensely hot; she struggled to keep still as the magic swept from her leg through her entire body. Gradually, the heat subsided and Belle sighed with relief.

Rumpelstiltskin released her leg and wandered about the room, fussing with the wards he had in place around the windows. "Henry spilled the beans, dear; please don't tell me you're planning on taking up arms with the rest of them."

Belle just stared at the ceiling, saying nothing; she could see a green phosphorescent light in her periphery as Rumpel reinforced the wards.

"Did you hear me, Belle?"

"I did, but you told me not to tell you and so I won't." she pushed up her sleeve and examined her arm, running her fingers gently across her skin where the other two bruises had been. "I would have told you about the lessons" she muttered.

"You're not fighting, dearie." His voice drifted from the walk-in closet. "It's not open for debate, either."

"So you just expect me to sit in this house and pretend that my friends and family _aren't_ risking their lives for our way of life?" agitated, she twisted the fringed trim of the duvet. "That isn't going to happen, Rumpelstiltskin. I am as much a part of this as anyone else in town."

He leaned against the door frame of the closet seeming to consider her words; Belle picked at the duvet, uncomfortable under his scrutiny. "I'm tired, Belle; I don't want to argue."

"Neither do I." she mumbled, scooting over to let her husband into bed. She curled up against him, resting her head upon his chest. "When am I losing you again?"

Rumpelstiltskin played with her hair, absently twirling the soft dark curls around his finger. "In a couple of days, maybe three. Regina's creatures are weaker in daylight and during a full moon." Belle rolled away and grabbed a pillow, hugging it to her chest; Rumpel stared down at her with sad eyes. "I will be fine, angel."

"Will you really or are you just saying that to make me feel better?" she sat up, curled around the pillow like a pill bug. "You cannot keep me out of this and I don't mean that I'm going to pick up a sword and gallop in swinging like Prince Charming. I'll be at the school helping out the nuns and Dr. Whale – but I _will_ be helping."

He kissed her forehead softly and sighed. "You have always been a stubborn one. Speaking of which –" Rumpelstiltskin held up the leather bound magic book. "Were you going to tell me about this too?"

"_Buuus-ted."_ the 'other' Belle sang from her perch and being generally unhelpful. "I was bored and I've read everything else –" the words tumbled from Belle's lips in hopes that one of the excuses would appease him. To her surprise, he placed the book in one of her hands, closing her fingers around it.

"All magic comes with a price." he whispered, his breath hot on her neck.

"A price I seem to pay whether I use the magic or you do." Belle murmured; they lapsed into silence and he turned off the side table lamp.

"Are you any good?" he asked suddenly.

Belle did a double take, uncertain that she had heard him correctly. "I'm sorry, what?"

"You heard me right; magic, are you any good at it?"

"I – I don't know." she sputtered; Rumpelstiltskin grabbed her chilly hands, holding them tight with his hot ones.

"You really want to take part in the battle, dearie? Then I need to know if you're safe or not -" Rumpelstiltskin's hands grew hotter and she could she see a faint aura around his fingertips, giving her own hands a blue hue. "Concentrate on me, Belle; can you channel your energy?"

After a few moments a weak silvery aura joined Rumpelstiltskin's stronger one; Belle's mouth dropped in surprise but his sharp command kept her focused as the heat in her left hand increased and his crushing grip prevented her from pulling away. Soon the light faded and he eased his grip, allowing her to pull away.

"What did you do?" Belle slid her hands around in search of cool spots on the linens.

"I enchanted our rings; if anything happens to either of us – we will know and be able to find each other." he crawled under the covers and nestled into the pillows. "It's a simple piece of magic for me.. but I wanted to reinforce it with your energy."

Belle flopped onto her back and stared into the darkness, her hands still tingling. "We will always find – hey, that sounds an awful lot like Charming." she teased only to be answered with a loud snore. Belle curled up on her side and watched over him until she fell asleep too.


	4. Chapter 4

The day of the attack arrived, cold and clear, the sun shining brightly in the faded blue sky; the final preparations were completed and now Belle and Henry stood in the gymnasium door, watching the small, well-armed force move across the open field and melt into the nearby woods. Henry sighed, pouting that he had been left behind by both his grandparents and his mother; but he was only twelve and it was far too dangerous for him. Belle put her arm around his shoulder and gave him a gentle squeeze, she understood how he felt; Rumpelstiltskin had gone earlier that morning to take up a safe position to work his magic from. He kissed her forehead and Belle let him go without a fuss, though she had been sorely tempted. She could not shake the feeling that something bad would happen to her love but he was a grown man and could take care of himself.

Belle ruffled Henry's hair and wandered back inside, busying herself with double checking the supply of rubbing alcohol and bandages, making certain that anything that might be needed was within easy reach; everything was ready, of course, but Belle's mind needed occupying. The rings on her left hand were still warm from the enchantment and made her fingers ache; he had never explained how it worked. Would the ring glow, as James said his had done when he sought out Snow White? Or would it shock her, a mean trick of Rumpel's impish side?

"Too bad it hadn't occurred to you to _ask_." taunted the 'other' Belle in a sing-song voice. Belle slipped the rings off and tucked them safely into her bag. A deep _boom_ reverberated through the gymnasium and medical staff and nuns exchanged fearful looks; the battle had begun.

She sopped up spilled coffee and tidied up the beverage station, trying hard not to think of Rumpelstiltskin and where he might be. She should have insisted on going with him, what was the point of their magic if she wasn't even participating in the battle? Another _boom_ rattled the building and Belle cursed, having dropped the cup of coffee she had been holding. A small, fast moving figure caught her eye, darting across the field and trying to gain the forest; someone nearby wondered where Henry was.

Without thinking, Belle grabbed one of the medical field packs and dashed outside, slinging it over her shoulder as she ran. He had disappeared over the top of the hill by the time she reached the tree line; Belle stumbled upward, her lungs on fire. Damn that child! The sounds of the battle grew louder as she ran deeper into the forest. About a hundred yards ahead was Henry, weaving around the trees; she lurched forward to continue her pursuit but her foot caught on an exposed root and Belle tumbled to the hard ground.

"Henry!" she screamed, pounding the ground in a fit of temper; Belle scrambled to her feet and dove through the forest. Maybe it wasn't her responsibility to look after the kid, but she considered him a friend; and who else would've reacted fast enough to even follow him? Losing speed, the ache in her lungs making it too painful to continue, Belle wrapped her arms around a slender birch, wheezing into the bark. "Henry!" she gasped, but she had lost sight of him while careening through the trees.

A high pitched scream pierced the air and she froze, still clinging to the tree; there seemed to be a clearing nearby and Belle peeled herself from the birch, running as best she could. "I'm coming, Henry!" she cried as another scream tore through the air.

"Hen –" Belle's voice caught in her throat as she stumbled into the clearing. Henry was dangling upside down from the black skeletal hands of one of Regina's fiends. Its entire body was dull, matte black except for the shine of beady eyes on the sides of its head. Only a wet looking red colour around its horrific mouth broke up the monotony of black; Belle hoped it was not Henry's blood.

Grabbing a large stick from near her feet, Belle ran at the beast with an unholy screech, smacking it across what might have been its shins; Henry dropped to the ground and Belle fell backwards to avoid the swipe of long, claw-like fingers.

"Way to go, hero." the 'other' Belle said dryly. "Now you've just made it angry."

She scrambled through the grass, trying to pull herself upright again. Something smooth and cold wrapped itself around her ankle, tightening its grip. "Run!" she hissed to the wide eyed Henry seconds before the beast whipped her up into the air.

"At least you're wearing leggings." 'other' Belle pointed out as her skirt obeyed gravity and the hem grazed her chin.

"Stop!" a familiar voice commanded; suspended upside down, Belle watched the newcomer step into the light of the clearing. Sweeping black hair, fabulous clothes, of course it would be Regina; being eaten by the monster started to sound like the more appealing option. The queen sauntered up to Belle, her dark red lips twisted into a smile that did not reach her eyes. "Lady Gold, fancy running into you here. You always _have_ had a thing for beasts."

"Regina." ignoring the dig, Belle wriggled in the air, hands groping for the ground, trying to free herself from the inert beast.

From beneath the crushed velvet cloak, the queen drew a slender, silver dagger and lay the flat side of the blade against Belle's forehead. "Do you think you could give me one _good_ reason I shouldn't carve out your heart right now and deliver it to your husband?" Regina caressed Belle's cheek with the blade; incredibly sharp, it sliced her skin easily, warm blood trickled near her eye. "Destroying Rumpelstiltskin's happiness as he helped to destroy _mine_."

The queen pressed the cold tip of the blade between Belle's lips as though preparing to shove it down her throat; Belle bit back a scream, why make it any easier for her?

"But you've done me a service, dear, by returning my son." the dagger had vanished, in its place was an onyx wand and with a flick of her wrist, Belle fell to the ground in a heap. "And so, I'll spare your life."

Belle pushed herself into a sitting position, stiff and in pain from the fall. "He's not your son." she spat. At Regina's command, her body seized up and she was knocked back to the ground, face in the dirt; the world twisted and spun around her, a cacophony of screams filled her ears. Falling, falling, this day was full of falling. The slaps of branches stung her skin and still she fell.

A sudden impact, her vision went white and then she knew nothing.

**End of Part One**


	5. Chapter 5

From sweet nothingness came sharp pain and blurry colour as the world came into focus; muted greens and muddy browns increased in vibrancy as they sharpened into plants, moss covered rocks and towering trees in violent bloom. Belle dragged herself into a sitting position, wincing as she did, her entire body aching; amazingly, there seemed to be nothing broken. The ground beneath her was carpeted with a lush moss, a soft comfort to her aching back.

The clearing, the sounds of battle, they were all gone; she didn't recognize this part of the forest. Here the air was mild and the salty smell of the sea mingled with the scent of an imminent rain. Absently, Belle picked leaves from her hair and clothes; she was sorely in need of a hot bath and a wardrobe change.

Belle knew that she ought to stay put until she could see straight but who knew if Regina would change her mind or the black fiends would find her as they hunted for their supper. Grabbing a mossy log for support, she climbed to her feet, surroundings still spinning slightly. Uncertain of how she got here, Belle tried to recount the last couple of hours. Perusing Henry through the forest before trouble found him, a big black monster and Regina's entrance complete with a dagger; Belle touched her face, the cheek tender and dried blood rough under her fingers. Well, that was most of it but what happened after?

"She offered to carve out your heart?" the 'other' Belle emerged from whatever corner she'd been hiding in.

"No, I remember that part." Belle answered herself aloud to fill the silence that her heavy footsteps did not.

"How about the part where she spared your life because of your good service, or something?" 'other' Belle affected a nasal voice, mocking Regina's regal airs. "And then the falling, you can't forget all of the falling." 'other' Belle dove for a barf bucket. Her personal peanut gallery could get nauseous. Super.

The piece of onyx that Belle had seen before the world twisted inside out must've been the culprit; but what use did Regina have for a wand when she had so much power? Perhaps it was to direct the magic; Belle remembered reading something about that when reading about directing power once. She stopped dead in her tracks, taking in the surrounding forest, so green it almost hurt her eyes; this was definitely not Storybrooke.

"Let's give her a gold star, folks." the 'other' Belle clapped very slowly. "Your first clue might have been the climate. It's not exactly snowing here, princess."

Overwhelmed with sudden panic, Belle plopped down on a mossy tree stump, trying to calm the flutter of her heart. Of course she wasn't in Storybrooke anymore, how had she failed to notice the decided lack of snow and cold air? Where _was_ she?

Blue light danced through her peripheral vision then materialized in front of her. At the center of the blue flame Belle could make out tiny, humanoid features; a type of sprite? The sprite beckoned to Belle to follow it, tiny fingers pointing somewhere to the left of them.

"You want me to follow you?" she asked apprehensively; she remembered tales of fairies and will-o-the-wisps leading travellers to their doom. The sprite bobbed excitedly in front of her, tugging on Belle's finger and reluctantly, she followed. Other sprites materialized, casting the trees in shades of blue, pink and yellow; if this was to be how it ended for her, at least it was beautiful. Through the trees they wound, the sounds and smell of the ocean grew stronger, the hard earth giving way to sand as they descended from the forest; on the breeze Belle could hear a faint melody.

"From a forest of spirits to a shore where mermaids can sing you to death; this pixie has nothing good in mind for you." the 'other' Belle groused. The sprite hovered above a low tree branch, waving a tiny farewell; this was as far as it would go. Belle smiled and bobbed a curtsey to the sprite, happy to watch it fade back into the forest.

A tumultuous stretch of water lay beyond the trees, waves crashing violently against jagged rocks off the coast and the sky awash with brilliant oranges and bleeding reds as the sun sank below the horizon. Belle slogged through the sand and found a place in the beach grass, still near the safety of the treeline, to watch the coming night. The music she heard earlier had grown stronger, drifting on the breeze over the beach.

The form of a woman lounged upon one of the rocks off shore, her hair a tangled mass, dark and long, it fell over her bare breasts. From the waist down, she was fish, the dying sunlight shone on her blue scales; a siren and she was not alone.

"Well, crap." Belle grumbled, counting half a dozen sirens, all dark haired, fair skinned and blue finned like the first. She fell back into the sand and put her hands over her ears. Sirens had peppered legends Belle had read as a child or heard about from the occasional troubadour; those sea beauties with golden voices, singing to love starved sailors, luring them to their deaths when the jagged rocks smashed their ships to splinters.

Would their ethereal song lure her into the waves only to drown trying to join them? Belle shivered; staying in the forest suddenly seemed like the safer alternative, at least until Rumpelstiltskin came for her; assuming the magic rings worked and hers could lead him to this place. She glanced down, wondering if there was any visual evidence the magic was working.

"I doubt it's going to send out a bat signal." The 'other' Belle said dryly; maybe not a 'bat signal' but Belle was hoping for some kind of aura or the warmth the metal had been emitting since the spell, but there was nothing. She cried out in disbelief; the wedding rings were gone. Belle rubbed her bare hand, hoping it was somehow a trick of the light or something wrong with her head from the fall, but they weren't there.

Looking tired and exasperated, the 'other' Belle slouched in a recliner. "You took them off and put them in your bag, genius. They're tucked away, safe and sound, at the school. Load of good they're doing you in Storybrooke."

Belle gasped for air feeling like she'd been slugged in the stomach; how could she have been so stupid? She remembered taking the jewellery off now, the warmth and an ache in her fingers that she had wanted relief from. Her eyes ached from the tears that would not come; how could he ever find her now?

"Time to get your own self home now, dearie." she whispered. The sound of awkward footsteps in the sand moved past her and Belle sat up, peering over the beach grass. A small figure mostly in shadow stumbled desperately towards the sea to the sirens and certainly to its death. Tumbling from her hiding place she flew across the beach, her feet hardly touching the sand. The distance between them closed and Belle launched herself at her oblivious prey; a strangled, high scream pierced her ear drums and then they collided, falling into the sand in a heap with Belle on top.

"Henry!?" Belle scrambled off and pulled the boy to his feet, checking him over for any injuries she may have caused; the light the sun had left behind was fading quickly and it was hard to see. His face was blank, eyes wide and empty from the siren song; Belle grabbed him under his arms and dragged him across the beach, past her place in the grass and into the forest until the song was soft and undecipherable over the crashing waves.

"Belle?" Henry wriggled from her hold and threw his arms around her, squeezing tight. "What is this place?" his voice shook, eyes full of fear.

Belle stroked the boy's hair, trying to soothe him and instill a calm that she did not feel. "I'm not sure, Henry. I think it might be Fairy Tale Land." she said. They sank to the mossy ground, still holding one another; her stomach growled. No food, no water, no shelter from the elements, what were they going to do?

"Belle, I'm cold." his voice was small and muffled by her shoulder. She was cold too, and thirsty, so thirsty. "I know, so am I." she kissed the top of his head and pulled away, looking around them. "Help me find some wood, kid? Maybe we can start a fire."

Ignoring Henry's skeptical expression, Belle scoured for sticks and fallen branches, collecting a small pile that she dumped onto the ground; she sat down next to Henry.

"How can we start a fire without matches?" he poked at the sticks. Smiling, Belle leaned over the sticks; she closed her eyes and cupped her hands, feeling the hot energy ripple from her chest through her arms, leaping from her finger tips and the sticks burst into flames. Sighing with relief, she curled up behind an already drowsy Henry; tears stung her eyes. They were so lost but she hoped it would look better in the morning; things often looked better in the morning.


	6. Chapter 6

Belle awoke, for the second time in twenty four hours, on the mossy forest floor. Their magical fire had burned out leaving behind charred twigs and oddly coloured ashes; Henry sat cross legged across from her, poking at the smoky remains.

"Morning, kid." she smiled, sitting up, stretching out the kinks in her neck and back. Sunlight filtered through the leaves and danced upon the ground, the air still smelled heavy of the ocean, the crash of the waves faint but still audible from their small camp. "What in heaven's name are you _doing _here?" she demanded. Henry remained silent, intent on the remains of last night's fire. He looked rough; his face was dirty, his clothes were torn and there were dark circles under his eyes. Belle felt a pang of sympathy in her heart for the boy; had he ever been away from home, overnight? "Seriously, Henry, the queen was ecstatic that you were back in her clutches. I can't believe that she would banish you with me."

"I thought she would stop if I were in the way -" Henry rummaged through his torn backpack, offering Belle a small chocolate bar he had found. Her stomach growled loudly; she could eat ten of those bars and probably still not feel satisfied. "I ran for you - and I got caught in the crossfire." Not knowing how to respond, Belle focused on the wrapper and they each broke open their chocolate bars and ate in silence; Belle struggled to not greedily scarf down her meager breakfast. "So what are we going to do?" he asked through a mouthful of chocolate.

Guilt for Henry's predicament bubbled up and Belle felt her throat tighten as she swallowed the last bite of chocolate. This was her exile not his, though if she'd had a choice, she found being lost preferable to being locked up in Regina's dungeon. She looked around the small clearing they had camped in; though the forest was not as dense as the one she had landed in, it looked almost identical and offered no obvious clues as to which way to go; what _were_ they going to do? She licked melted chocolate from her fingers. "I suppose we should just start walking. We've no food or drinkable water and I think I'd rather die looking for it than sitting here thinking about it."

"Do you really think we're going to die?" Henry's voice trembled.

"If we don't find safe water then it's a distinct possibility." Standing up, Belle stamped her feet on the ashy remains of the fire, ignoring Henry's terrified expression. "Just because this is a land of magic doesn't mean life and survival is any less precarious." Belle held out her hand and pulled the reluctant boy to his feet. Maybe she had been too frank with him but their predicament was serious and her own fatigue and fear was putting a damper on her patience; she didn't have the survival skills to last long on her own, how could she take care of a child as well? "Come on, we should get moving. Regina is probably looking for you now and I'd rather not be here if and when she finds you."

"Which way do we go?" Henry shivered despite the warmth of the morning and fell in behind Belle, who had already started walking.

"In any direction but towards the sea, you've tempted the sirens enough for one day." She answered and they faded into the forest, both hoping to find something to eat more satisfying than chocolate bars.

* * *

Afternoon was fading into evening when Belle and Henry finally came to a halt, the trail they had been following ended at the base of an ancient oak tree. They had taken a short rest on the banks of a shallow stream earlier in the day, both gulping down as much water as their hands could pour into their mouths; she was worried that the water would make them sick later since they lacked the means to boil it first but with the effects of dehydration beginning to rear their ugly heads, she would take her chances.

"What an odd place for a road to end." the 'other' Belle remarked, making her first appearance since leaving the blue sprite the day before.

Gnarled and leafless, the tree looked out of place in its verdant surroundings; Belle slowly circled around the wide base, her brow furrowed with concentration. Many roots were exposed, curling their way along the ground toward other nearby healthy trees. The oak shouldn't even be standing; it wouldn't take much of a wind to bring down a similar tree. She pressed a hand to the worn bark; it was warm and made her fingers tingle and the air around it felt heavy with magic. Belle gave the tree a distrustful glance and turned back to a wary looking Henry.

"I don't want to camp here." Henry told her. "It stinks of magic here."

"You can smell magic?" Belle could not hide the surprise in her voice; sometimes she could smell it at home in the same way she smelled rain in the air but she wouldn't have said it 'stunk'; what _did_ magic smell like?

Henry nodded, taking a step back from the oak tree. "It reminds me of sour milk."

Belle stared at the tree thoughtfully, considering his description; sour milk wasn't something she would've used to describe the 'scent of magic'. The 'other' Belle hopped around in her head like a mad little thing, urging Belle to forget the mystery of the gnarled oak and move on; whatever the type of magic at work, 'other' Belle assured that they wanted to no part of it.

"Are the two just going to stand around all night poking at my trunk or are you going to come in?" a familiar voice barked; Belle yelped and jumped back to find the disembodied head of an old man sticking out of the tree above them. Light reflected from his shiny pate and glinted in his long, silvered beard. Thin, gold spectacles, perched on a thin nose, magnified faded blue eyes full of mischief.

"Simon?" she gasped, recognizing him for the old librarian in Storybrooke. "How did - how are -" an ornate pocket watch dangled in front of her face. "Father time." Belle whispered, recalling the first time she had met him, thinking that his previous life had been as the iconic time keeper.

"Ah!" Simon's head vanished and the tree shimmered with a doorway of golden light. "Well come on!" his voice echoed from within the portal.

"You know him?" Henry whispered, wide eyed. Belle nodded slowly and pointed at the light. "He hired me in Storybrooke, I - I think we can trust him." she whispered back; Henry took her hand and together they rushed into the golden light.


	7. Chapter 7

A simple stew of potatoes and carrots with chunks of game provided a welcome supper, with warm, fresh bread to sop it up with and a cup of cold milk to wash it all down. Darkness had fallen and Belle, now freshly bathed and wearing a long cotton shift, was curled up in a warm feather bed that was set into a cupboard in the wall. Simon sat near the fire in a great armchair, gazing into the flames, his mind a million miles away from the cottage and Henry was nestled into a pile of soft blankets and pillows on the floor at his feet, sleeping peacefully. Belle could almost forget the events that had led them here; the fear and the hunger. They were safe now and her mind wandered to Rumpelstiltskin. Her heart ached; was he looking for her? He must be searching, just as sure as Regina was looking for Henry. But there were many kingdoms in Fairy Tale Land and all the magic in the world would not make the search any easier, unless he had still been the Dark One.

Simon had listened with polite interest while she and Henry had recounted the adventure that brought them to his doorstep (tree trunk?) but he had said little. Belle sighed into the pillow; she wasn't sure what she had expected Simon to do; wiggle his nose or click his heels three times to whisk them back home? Now that would be a fine trick. He had already plucked them from the forest, shared his meal and hearth with them and even provided fresh clothes for the morning; what more could any normal person do?

"But he's _not _a normal person." the 'other' Belle said sleepily. The tiny manifestation of her internal dialogue had spent much of the journey quiet, being unimpressed with the forest and 'roughing it'. No, Simon wasn't a normal person; he was Father Time, but not a sorcerer. Or was he? She and Henry would never get back to Storybrooke if she didn't ask.

A soft chorus of _ticking_ filled the room from the clocks hanging from the walls and scattered over every surface. There were cuckoo clocks, water clocks, decimal clocks and ornate Baroque clocks, just to name a few. A gentle _snap crackle _of the flames accompanied the ticking, soothing Belle, her eyes growing heavy. Tomorrow. Tomorrow she would talk with Simon and ask for his help.

* * *

Their host was an early riser or perhaps he simply didn't sleep; Belle awoke, happy and rested, delicious aromas from the kitchen area filled the cottage. She lay there relishing the warmth of the covers, listening to Simon clank around, humming tunelessly to himself. Henry still slept on the floor by the hearth, wrapped snugly into his blankets, snoring softly. It would be the perfect time, Belle thought, to ask for help while Henry was asleep. She eyed the clothes she had put on the foot stool next to the bed; she would have to get out of bed first.

Wrapping herself in a fleece throw, Belle rolled out of the cupboard bed and, grabbing the clothes, scurried to the small bathroom. She hopped around on the cold floor, pulling on the simple blue dress and stockings as quickly as possible, then padded out to a dining table already laden with scrambled eggs and thick slices of toast.

"Morning, sunshine, help yourself." Father Time warbled, removing a kettle from the stove. "Fancy a cup of tea?"

Belle expressed her enthusiasm for the tea around a mouthful of scrambled egg. "Fantastic table manners, dearie." The 'other' Belle rolled her eyes. Simon placed a large, steaming earthenware mug next to her plate and eased himself into his chair, contemplating his own mug of tea.

"So you're Rumpelstiltskin's wife." it was more of a statement than a question; he slathered an unhealthy amount of butter onto a piece of toast. She pushed her eggs around the plate with her fork; was that a problem? It hadn't bothered Simon back in Storybrooke and he had made a point of telling her that he was not afraid of Mr. Gold.

"No, it's not a problem." Simon answered her unspoken question, sipping his tea. "But I don't need him waltzing up to my tree and forcing his way in here either."

"I think if he were able to find me, he would have 'waltzed' in here already." Belle pulled at the crust of her toast. She was surprised by how bitter she sounded. It was not Rumpelstiltskin's fault that she was in this mess, only hers; _she_ had removed the rings and _she _had chosen to go after Henry, no one else.

"No doubt." he grumbled, biting into his toast. Father Time didn't seem to be much of a morning person after all, or maybe they were just cramping his style; he probably didn't get a lot of visitors. "And the boy," Simon continued, spearing eggs onto his fork. "he's the queen's son, Regina's."

"Emma Swan's son." Belle corrected, draining the last of her tea. "But the queen was his adoptive mother, yes."

"Then she could darken my doorstep too." Simon refilled both of their tea mugs. She didn't bother to answer; he was crabby and who could blame him? The prospect of either the evil queen or Rumpelstiltskin (or both) stopping by would put anyone in a bad mood but maybe that possibility would make him inclined to help them.

"Am I right?" Simon asked irritably and Belle realized that she had drifted and not heard what the old man had said.

"I"m sorry, what was that again?"

"So you'll be wanting my help." his fork clattered to the table with his napkin.

"Yes, please! I mean, if you can -" she babbled, covering Simon's hand with her own and smiling sweetly. Henry wandered past them, sliding sleepily into a chair and helping himself to the food.

"Of course I can help you." Simon snatched his hand away. "I know, I know. I could just give you supplies and directions and send you on your merry way." Verbalizing what she had been thinking again. "But I can do one better, or much better." he laughed sharply at his own bad joke. "First, however, you must do something for me."

Belle frowned and waited for him to continue; the only sounds in the cottage were the clank of Henry's fork on the plate and the myriad of ticking clocks.

"There is an object, a star dial, which I believed that I had merely misplaced only to discover that, somehow, it has been stolen." Simon shuffled back to the stove to heat more water.

"Stolen?" Belle asked, her stomach slowly tightening with anxiety; she and Henry exchanged A Look.

"Yes, stolen. Is there an echo in here?" Simon barked. Irritation was not a good look for his wrinkled, ancient face. "It is a one-of-a-kind piece, wrought in precious metals and gems and it's very dear to me."

"Then how did you let it get away, old man?" the 'other' Belle shouted at everyone who could not hear her.

"Recover my darling star dial and I can then send you off as far as you wish, perhaps even to Storybrooke, if you like." his arm sweeping outward as if to add emphasis to the distance they could cover with his help.

Belle glanced at Henry, who only shrugged, and then back to Simon. Nodding slowly as she turned it over in her head. "All right, where can we start looking for this star dial?"

"I have reason to believe that a gang of ogres have it, though what a dumb ogre would want it for is anybody's guess." He rolled his eyes, an odd expression for old Father Time. "They have a settlement a few miles from here. Sneak in, steal back my dial and return it to me."

Ogres? Was he _nuts_? Belle had to admit that he probably _was_ quite nuts; just the nature of the job. But ogres - they were large, strong and mean. Oh _so _mean. Memories of the Ogre Wars flashed through her mind and Belle thought she'd rather stroll into the heart of Regina's fortress by herself than sneak into a camp full of ogres.

"Ogres - great. When do we start?" She said with enthusiasm she did not feel; they had to get back to Storybrooke and if Simon was willing to help them, assuming that they survived this errand, then she would have to suck it up and get over her fear; even though it was very likely she would end up their lunch.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N - It only occurred to me, after publishing, that I should recommend you go back and read the first installment of 'Rose Petals' titled 'Postcards' (for those of you who have not). You will find Baelfire at the end of that one shot. Apologies!**

* * *

Simon wasted no time in outfitting them with any supplies she and Henry could carry and then deposited them back into the forest with a lukewarm farewell. Puzzling, perhaps, but not wholly unexpected after his behavior at breakfast. Before they had departed, Simon thrust a drawing of the dial into Belle's hands, so that she would have no difficulty locating his precious treasure.

The drawing, folded up in the pocket of her dress, crinkled with the gentle sway of the fabric; bringing it was not necessary, she would not forget the jewel encrusted image and even if she had never seen it she would have known it. They had been walking all day and she caught the scent of ogres on the breeze now but daylight was fading fast once again. Belle led Henry a little ways off the trail to make camp; their third night away from Storybrooke.

Henry collected wood and Belle made quick work of building a small fire, mostly for warmth as Simon had provided them with rations for the road. Tubes of silver carved with runes were tucked into her pack; she turned them over, wondering what they were for. The tubes were warm in her hands and her palms tingled; more magic. A small rolled up piece of parchment fell from one of the tubes. It unfurled in her fingers, instructions scrawled upon it in a spidery hand:

_Stick these in the ground around your camps; it will shield you from unwanted eyes and predatory appetites - S_.

Belle shrugged and followed the instructions; clever old coot. Soon they were settled by their fire and munching on the bread and salted meat Simon had packed. The silver of the tubes shone dully in the flame light, a pale white aura the only hint of its shielding magic.

They finished their supper in silence, Belle pouring more water into their wooden travel cups. She could almost trick herself into believing that she and Henry were just on a camping trip; there to roast marshmallows, scare each other with ghost stories and simply enjoy each other's company. Almost.

Packing away the cups and flasks of water, Belle pulled thin rolls of fabric from the bags. She frowned; was this Simon's idea of an adequate blanket? The tingling in her palms returned and she shook them out; they turned into thick, warm furs.

"You should've known everything he gave you was enchanted." the 'other' Belle said obnoxiously. She shook her head and tossed one of the furs to Henry.

"Should we each take a watch?" Henry asked, finally breaking the silence.

"No, we'll be safe." Belle glanced at the silver at the edge of their camp. She settled into the soft grass and wrapped herself up in the blanket. "Henry," she hesitated. "Why did you run off?"

Wrapped in the heavy blanket, Henry looked so small, so young; he stared into the fire, fear shining in his eyes. "Because I wanted to help my granddad." he chewed on his lip. "And I was afraid I wouldn't see my mom again."

Belle felt her throat tighten and her eyes stung. She couldn't blame him for what he had done. Hadn't she done a similar thing by going after Rumpelstiltskin when the curse had broken? Love made people do crazy things.

"But why did you run after me?" Henry asked, turning it around on her.

Why _had_ she gone after the kid? She opened her mouth to speak and shut it immediately; she had no real answer for him. "I don't know, Henry. Why wouldn't I come after a friend?" Henry's face lit up; his smile was infectious and she found that she was smiling too.

"You seemed really scared - at Father Time's house, when he asked us to get his star dial from the ogres." Henry had shed the blanket and was tossing small pebbles and blades of grass into the fire. "Are they really so dangerous?"

"When I was a little girl," Belle began, trying to choose her words carefully; she held her hands before the fire to warm them. "ogres were the monsters in cautionary tales. The ones that mothers and nurses would scare their children with if they wouldn't behave." she let her mind drift as she lost herself in the memories. "They were cruel and murderous creatures with no thought to peace or mercy. My nurse liked to tell me that they would roast me for supper if I did not behave."

An owl hooted in a nearby tree, as though it were admonishing Belle's nurse for her mean tales. Henry waited for Belle to continue.

"But ogres were real - _are_ real." she corrected herself. "They waged wars, kidnapped children and burned entire villages. From things that went bump in the night they became real when they began rampaging through the land I grew up in." Belle gazed at the fire, the past playing itself out in her mind's eye. "The ogres came close, so close."

"How did you finally defeat them?" Henry's voice was hopeful. "Maybe it will help us get Father Time's dial back."

"We didn't -" she whispered, afraid to speak much louder. "Villages continued to fall, the ogres were killing our soldiers in large numbers. All was lost and my father - we were desperate, we turned to -"

"Rumpelstiltskin." Henry breathed; he knew the story as well as she did thanks to his book. "He didn't want your gold though, right? He wanted -"

"Me. Forever." she finished. "So, I went and the ogres were pushed back into their territory, leaving my village and the others, in peace." Belle blinked back tears. "This wasn't a very happy story, Henry, should we try another?"

"How come you love him if he took you away from your home?"

Belle had asked herself that question more than a few times in the time she had known Rumpelstiltskin. The terms were harsh but he had not been cruel to her and for all his power, bravado and flash there was a lonely man underneath.

"I guess I found the man beneath the monster.." she gave a little shrug. "I would not change my decision if I had to do it again. To save my village from marauding ogres? I'd go in a heartbeat."

A horrible, screeching scream pierced the night, sending Henry into Belle's arms, his own wrapped tightly around her waist. "That sounded like one of the night monsters from home." Henry's voice shook.

"Hush now." Belle murmured, her cheek resting on his head. "I'll keep you safe, I promise." she tucked Henry's blanket tightly around his shoulders, awkward when he would not let go of her. The truth of her words struck her as a pang in her heart; she _would_ keep him safe and get him home, no matter what it took.

A single light in the darkness, an eerie blue, hovered around the edge of the camp where the silver tubes were planted. Another sprite, or maybe even the same sprite; she was soon joined by a couple dozen of her kin, the green, red, yellow and purple of their light blending together and bathing Henry and Belle in a rainbow of soft light.

Henry's trembling subsided and his death grip on Belle eased as he watched the sprites drift through the air above them. They seemed to be singing, their tiny voices sounded like strings of small bells. Enchanted, Henry's eyes grew heavy and he finally drifted to sleep, a smile on his face. Belle yawned and her eyes fluttered shut, her arms still wrapped around Henry, they slept peacefully in the safety of Father Time's magic, under the glow of the sprites.

* * *

They set out again at first light and traveled quickly, making good time before the cool morning slid into the warm and muggy afternoon Belle had come to expect. Henry seemed to be in better spirits today, chatting and telling her corny kid jokes that he had learned from his classmates. It was the longest stretch of time she'd ever spent with a child (though she supposed he was closer to teenager now) and it was surprisingly enjoyable; Henry possessed the charm and wit of his grandparents and was very easy to talk to.

The day grew progressively warmer and the scent of ogres, which had been subtle the day before, now hung heavy in the air; they couldn't be more than a few miles away from the settlement. Belle walked slowly now, stopping occasionally to lean on a thick staff that Simon had given her in lieu of a real weapon. Near the edge of the trail, Henry swung an old, dull short sword through the tall weeds; she had no idea what Simon was thinking when he gave the sword to Henry, if he was going to give him a weapon it should have been a somewhat useful one (that wasn't duller than a butter knife) but it made the kid happy so Belle shrugged it off.

"So how are we going to get the dial back? Maybe I can run in swinging my sword as a distraction while you search for it!" Henry swung ferociously at the large yellow blossom that towered over him, lopping it clean off. Impressive, for such a dull weapon.

"Most ogre warriors are at least seven feet tall, Henry." Belle sighed. "And _we_ are not going to get the star dial; _I_ am going to get the star dial. _You _are going to stay a safe distance away concealed by the silver tubes."

"Well how are _you_ going to get them?" he looked skeptical. "You're not much taller or stronger than I am."

"I'm still working on that part." Belle snapped irritably, not wanting to admit out loud that the kid was right, nor did she want to use the 'because I'm the adult, that's why' excuse; no kid ever bought that. "We should stop for a bit, have some lunch."

Henry looked like he wanted to press the ogre issue but thankfully let it go and they walked along in silence, Belle pondering where they should stop. The sound of rushing water reached her ears and that made up her mind. "I can hear a stream up ahead. We'll rest there."

It wasn't far; they walked maybe another ten minutes but her feet were aching and Belle was dying to submerge them in the cool water up ahead. The trees around the path thinned out as they neared the water but provided enough cover for Belle and Henry to spot a stranger already on the bank with the same idea she had; he was perched on an exposed root with bare feet dangling in the rushing water. Behind him lay heavy duty black boots and a sword and two daggers, all in simple black sheaths.

Belle hung back, an uneasy feeling telling her to go another way but Henry strode past her. "Hey! No!" she hissed, making a grab for his arm but missing. "Henry!" she hurried after the kid who was running up to the strange man. What the hell was this kid _doing_? She froze in her tracks when the man turned around, her staff clattering to the ground.

It was Baelfire.


	9. Chapter 9

Belle swung her legs above the rush of the stream, the serenity of the moment and occasional splash of the water doing nothing to alleviate the disappointment she felt. The brief hope she held that Rumpelstiltskin had found them evaporated with Baelfire's story.

"The last thing I remember is tripping and falling," Baelfire finished telling Henry, who was rapt with attention. "Then I woke up here; well not _here_ but close by." Baelfire gestured vaguely to what she guessed was north.

"So you heard Henry scream over the fury of battle?" Belle asked skeptically; she wanted to believe her stepson, there had never been any reason to distrust him, but somehow she doubted what he had said. If Bae heard the screams then why didn't anyone else?

"I may have fallen a bit behind everyone else." He mumbled, eyes downcast.

"You ran?" Henry's voice was high with disbelief.

"I got scared – I lost my nerve. _Please _don't tell my father, Belle." Baelfire implored, his brown eyes full of shame. "He would be so upset."

"Somehow I doubt that." She muttered, remembering the story Rumpelstiltskin had told her once, of the brave, headstrong son and a lame and cowardly father. Belle suspected that he would understand more than anyone.

"The Evil Queen sent you here, she _must_ have." Henry insisted. "Just like she did to Belle and me." The boy prattled on about how he had run off and Belle's bravery in coming after him and how standing up to Regina caused them both to be banished; he left out a few important details, but Belle let it slide.

"So what _is_ this place?" Baelfire asked, shaking off the shame of his cowardice for the moment. "Whatever it is, it's ripe with ogre and you're heading right toward it." He wrinkled his nose.

"It's Fairytale land." Henry said cheerfully. Where was this kid's perkiness coming from all of a sudden? She made a mental note to make sure he wasn't eating any suspicious looking mushrooms.

Belle slid from her seat into the stream, gasping at the shock of the cold water around her ankles, but it felt good and she enjoyed the squish of the wet sand between her toes. She relished the remaining seconds of calm between the three of them before they told Bae about their errand for Father Time. Her fear and dislike of ogres paled in comparison to Baelfire's, remembering one night shortly after his arrival in Storybrooke when he had too much to drink and too much to forget. Granny called her at home, insisting that someone retrieve Bae before his ranting, raving and ogre noises scared off _all_ of her customers. Needless to say, he wasn't going to like the errand and she had little hope of convincing him of its necessity. Hard headed and passionate with a difficulty for listening to reason once he had fixed on something, Bae was completely his father's son.

"Then might I suggest we head west?"

"The forest is vast and the shore is a two or three day walk from here but it is rife with sirens." Belle climbed up the bank to find a new perch in which to dry her legs off. "It's the beach where I found Henry." Quickly, she related her own story, from awakening in the forest glen to following the sprites through the trees to the shore where she had saved Henry from the sirens' song.

"I think I'd rather take my chances with the sirens. At least it would be a beautiful way to die."

"Yes, because drowning is so exquisite." The 'other' Belle snarked, the back of her small hand held to her forehead in a gesture of despair.

"You're welcome to do as you wish, Bae." She said to her stepson but addressing her toes, not wanting to look at the reproachful stare that was too much like Rumpelstiltskins'. "But we are on an errand and we must go east." Belle sighed, they had lost much of the afternoon sitting by the stream and it wouldn't make much sense for them to move on just to stop nearby. "We may as well camp here tonight."

"What sort of errand?" Baelfire led them into the trees away from the path, following the stream until they came to a spot close to the water but well concealed from prying eyes. Belle tossed her pack into the grass next to Henry's and settled herself onto it, smoothing her skirts and brushing her ankles clean of stray flora.

"Stealing treasure from the ogres!" Henry answered for her, again with too much enthusiasm. Was this really the same apprehensive, nervous looking kid she had been leading through the forest? She watched Baelfire's face contort with anger, or maybe it was fear, as he whirled around to face her; 'What the hell are you thinking!' his posture said.

"We were plucked from the woods yesterday by an old man I knew in Storybrooke who turned out to be Father Time." Belle recited. "He shared his food with us and said he could send us home on the condition that we retrieve a precious object of his that had fallen to the ogres."

"You trust this magician to be able to fulfill this promise? Belle, you know as well as I do that he is sending you to your death."

"Do you have any better ideas, Bae?" she took the small pile of sticks that Henry had scampered around gathering. "We don't even know exactly _where_ we are and I'm not sure if you noticed but survival skills aren't exactly something I know about."

Baelfire eased himself into the grass next to Belle, grumbling under his breath; if she closed her eyes she could believe it was Rumpelstiltskin and not his son. "So what is this - _thing_ that this – madman, wants you to retrieve?" Bae sputtered, taking the crumpled paper that Belle had fished from the folds of her dress. "This is the only way?" he sighed after studying it for a minute or two.

"I like this about as much as you do, Bae, believe me." Belle slid from the pack into the grass and dug out the silver tubes. "Regina never meant for Henry to come here with me, so I'd like to get back to Storybrooke before she finds us."

"Or before my dad tears the town apart looking for you." He smiled thinly. "How did you go anywhere out of his sight without some sort of talisman to protect you or something that might alert him to trouble?" Bae's eyes widened at the fleeting frown on her face. "He _did_ and you didn't bother to keep it on you and – man, he's going to be _so_ mad."

She snatched the drawing from his hands with a glare, stuffing it back into her pocket. Of _course_ Rumpel was going to be mad, tell her something she didn't already know. Henry bounced back into the camp, dropping more wood into the pile. Tired, hungry and homesick, Belle had had enough of her stepson passing judgment on their plans; she knew the errand was a bad idea already. She laid back in the grass, half listening to Bae and Henry talk about ogres and fighting techniques. Focusing on the sound of the stream, Belle's eyes fluttered shut and she drifted off to sleep.

* * *

It was the dead of night and the only light Belle could see from her perch, concealed in a large tree came from the fires of the ogre camp. The bark from the branch scratched her soft skin and her muscles ached from the hours spent observing. Baelfire had insisted on reconnaissance before making any move to retrieve the star dial; learning the ogres' daily routine and the frequency of their guard patrols would better their chances at survival, he claimed and she reluctantly agreed. Somewhere in the trees on the other side of the ogre camp, Baelfire was doing the same thing.

As tall as the trees and built like brick walls, the ogres were as frightening as she had always imagined; battle scarred olive flesh and gnarled limbs made up the sentry ogres that passed near her hiding place. Each ogre stronger than a team of oxen, they could have plucked her from the tree more than a dozen times since she'd scaled it; but while they were strong and fierce, their senses were dull, or most of them anyway.

To her surprise, the ogres seemed to have a moderately developed society, from what she could see from observing just one camp. Three mealtimes had come and gone since she climbed the tree, each time bringing a myriad of ogres to the center of the camp to the cooking fires; they waited patiently in line, each with a wooden bowl in their hands that they held out when it was their turn at the soup cauldron. They sat quietly at roughly hewn tables set up for the meal or scattered about on the ground, murmuring quietly (for ogres), finishing their stew and then going about their duties. No scuffles, no tortured screams from the tents, no snarling at each other for a scrap of meat; Belle wasn't sure what she had expected, but it hadn't been this.

Their patrols increased after darkness fell and Belle clung to the rough bark of the tree limb, frozen as they circled closer and closer to her with each circuit. The icy pit in her stomach told her that the ogres knew she was there and were just biding their time until they felt like dealing with her. She was no closer to figuring out where the star dial might be kept and even if it had been obvious, how on earth were they supposed to get it? What was the next step in Baelfire's great plan? Oh right, this was it.

She sighed; this was going nowhere and she'd been freezing since the sun went down. "Enough of this crap." She muttered, shimmying toward the trunk to make her descent.

"What do you think you're doing?" the 'other' Belle spazzed. "You can't even see, if you don't break your neck on the way down, how will you even find your way back to camp?" her inside voice stomped tiny feet, huffing indignantly when Belle proceeded to carefully climb down from the tree. A low noise, like a growl, from close by stopped Belle in her tracks but she heard nothing but her own heartbeat thundering in her ears. When the terror passed, she continued the climb down; her foot smacked into something hard and decidedly not tree-like in the way it closed around her ankle.

"What you doing, little thing?" the gravelly voice asked as it yanked her from the tree trunk and crushed her into its scratchy, smelly clothes.

Belle only remembered to start breathing right before she passed out.


	10. Chapter 10

Waking up on the cold, hard ground seemed to be the theme of the week for Belle, her eyes fluttered open, her forehead pressed firmly into the hard packed earth. A thin blanket was draped over her shoulders, the fabric coarser and the odor stronger. Belle wrinkled her nose, then she remembered; ogres. That's right, how could she forget? She laid her cheek against the dirt, squinting her eyes a couple of times, trying to make them focus faster in the dim light. Ratty blankets and pillows littered the floor within her line of sight and against dark tent fabric, a rough looking wooden rack stood with hefty spears so tall the spearheads were out of sight. A large meaty finger pressed into her cheek and the terror of her descent from the tree came rushing back.

Large hands grabbed Belle by the shoulders and plucked her from the floor, setting her on her feet. The hands gently dusted her off, her breathing was shallow and her body began to tremble. Once dusted, she was airborne again; lifted up, up, up onto a broad ledge; the ogre's shoulder.

"Time to work, little thing." his gravelly voice vibrated through her bones and they began to move, Belle clutching the ogres' neck to avoid slipping to the ground. They emerged from the tent into the heart of the camp and to the stares of the other ogres; but Belle was too frightened to notice. Into the forest they went, the only sound was the ogre's immense footsteps hitting the ground. If there had been any birds singing they had flown away.

In a large clearing not far from the camp, Belle was on the ground again, the long grass tickling her ankles. A shallow (for ogres) ditch dominated the clearing, small mountains of soil scattered about its perimeter.

"What your name little thing?" With a huge shovel now in his hands the ogre loomed before her, uncomfortably close.

Trembling uncontrollably, Belle couldn't answer. She was certain that the heavy shovel would descend onto her skull at any moment, but it didn't; what was he waiting for?

"Just get it over please." Her voice small and pathetic, she wasn't sure if he could hear her. A frown flickered across her face. "Aren't you going to kill me?"

The ogre set the shovel down and crouched low and his face, with its large features rugged and the skin scarred, filled her vision.

"No, I not kill you. Others might put you in lunch, you safe with me." The ogre was very matter-of-fact but his eyes, great orbs of blue, were kind. He gave her a careful pat on the head with one large hand and turned to the ditch with his shovel. "I work now." he explained gruffly, moving an impressive amount of earth in one scoop. "You keep me company, tell me stories, little thing. I like stories."

_Stories?_ Belle scanned the edges of the clearing, wondering how far she could run before the ogre caught her. Probably not very far.

"What sort of stories?" her voice was squeakier than she had hoped. Belle scrambled atop a fallen tree, uncertain how well the ogre could hear her from the ground. He only grunted and she settled in, racking her brain for a story. She told him the story of Snow White as she knew it, with Snow on the run from the queen and trying to survive by her wits in the forest, stealing what she could from the queens' passing supply wagons. Until the day Snow robbed the wrong carriage and fate and true love came into play. The ogre seemed intrigued by Belle's story of the bandit princess and waved at her to continue; what a strange Scheherazade she made.

The ogre worked until the light began to fade. Belle had finished her tale with the prince finding Snow White and awakening her with a kiss. She watched, in silence to rest her voice, as the ogre put his tools away.

"Food time, little thing." He announced, moving to pick her back up. Thinking that the ogre meant to cook her, Belle ducked, slipping from the tree onto the ground and her already sore backside.

"Not you." His chuckle was low like the rumble of distant thunder. Placing her back on his shoulder, they moved into the forest again, Belle bowing her head to avoid the slap of leaves and branches. "You call me Dug." He told her.

"Your name is Dug?" she was incredulous. What an ordinary name for an ogre.

"My true name too hard for you. I dig so you call me Dug."

Well that made sense though Belle had never considered the ogres having a language let alone proper names. "Belle." She told him. "_My_ name is Belle."

Dug chuckled again, her name seeming as silly to him as his own did to her. "It good name for you. Small and pretty like real bell."

They lapsed into silence for the rest of the walk back to the camp. Belle smiled, feeling like this set back wasn't going to be the dead end she thought it had been.

* * *

The night had been surprisingly peaceful and Belle slept well in a warm pile of ratty blankets Dug put together for her. Breakfast had been a little difficult to stomach; burnt bread and scorched gruel never had been her favourites so she ate sparingly. They were back in the clearing again and Dug was hard at work deepening the ditch while Belle removed rocks from the soil and put them in a pile. Her mind alternated between escape plans and Rumpelstiltskin though emptiness is what she strove for; it was just too painful to think.

Sometime around midday Dug tossed down the shovel (which made Belle run for cover) and sat on the lip of the ditch to eat his lunch. Belle emerged from a large hollow log and rejoined her ogre companion.

"It hot work digging." Dug offered a crusty and blackened piece of breakfast bread which she politely declined. "But I like digging. Keeps mind busy." Sadness flickered across his face and looked almost comical in features so large but Belle stifled her laughter; Dug seemed somber.

"What are you trying to forget?" Belle asked, genuinely curious. What made an ogre melancholy?

"My love." He said mournfully. "Most hideous ogress in world. She wonderful." Dug sighed.

"Why are you trying to forget her then?" if someone had told Belle she would be discussing an ogre's love life, even a month ago, she would have laughed them out of Storybrooke. Dug seemed to be the opposite of _every_ ogre story she had heard as a child.

"Dug gone a lot. Maybe she not wait for Dug." Large chunks of bread fell to the ground as he absently picked apart his lunch. "She have beautiful red hair. It not common but Dug don't care." His eyes took on a dreamy, far-away look as he continued on. Belle dabbed at her eyes, overwhelmed by his obvious depth of affection for his lady love.

"She sounds wonderful, Dug and if she loves you as you say, then she _will_ wait." She smiled through her tears. "True love always finds a way."

"I hope you right, little Belle." Dug wiped his nose with a dirty hand. "Do you have true love?"

Belle couldn't help grinning though thinking of her true love and wondering if she'd ever see him again was painful. "Yes, I have a true love." And because Dug liked stories, she spun her own tale, careful not to identify Rumpelstiltskin and glossing over a lot of the time at the dark castle; ogres would probably not have a fond collective memory of the Dark One.

"He made you go but he love you?" Dug blinked in confusion that she would've attributed to his simple nature if it hadn't confused her too. Rumpelstiltskin rarely did things that made sense to the average observer.

"He was very afraid, Dug, he was alone for a very long time." Belle continued on, trying to weave the narrative without getting into the curse, the life in Storybrooke or her abduction by Regina, but emphasizing that they had overcome great odds and found each other in the end. "We were separated though and I'm trying to get back home."

"That why you spy on ogres?"

"Sort of?" Belle hung her head; it _had_ been spying but hearing it from Dug sent guilt rushing through her. "An old man said he could send me home to my love if I found something for him. He told me that the ogres had this object." Unfolding the much wrinkled drawing of the star dial Belle thrust it toward Dug who gave it a moment of study before passing it back with a frown.

"You miss him much?"

"Oh yes." She whispered, uncertain that Dug could even hear her. Without warning, she was airborne again and back on her shoulder perch. "Could you tell me before you do that next time?"

"Dug sorry. We head back now. Meal duty for Dug tonight." He told her and started tromping back to the camp.

* * *

"_Pssst. Pssst._ Little Belle, you wake up." The ogre had removed her blankets and was shaking her gently. Belle groaned and burrowed into the remaining blankets she laid upon. "Wake up little Belle." He persisted. Dug left off the shaking and was rummaging through a small chest behind her, stuffing things into his pockets. Then wrapping Belle up in a blanket, the ogre scooped her up and crept from the tent and into the nearby trees.

Belle was fully awake by the time Dug set her down at the edge of the clearing they had been working in; a half moon shone overhead, casting weak silver light on the ground and deep shadows over Dug's face.

"Friends are close." He told a shivering Belle as she clutched the blanket around her shoulders. "You go to them."

Confused and sleepy but elated to have this chance to go, Belle began to stumble into the tree line before Dug's big hand stopped her. Had he changed his mind?

"Here." Dug handed her a velvet sack that seemed empty save for a small object in the bottom. "You take this. Go home to love."

The ogres _did_ have Father Time's dial and now Dug was giving it to her. Tears pricked her eyes.

"Thank you, Dug." The ogre pushed her forward into the forest before she could get too emotional and told her to keep going straight until she came across her friends. Then he was gone and she was alone in the forest again.


	11. Chapter 11

Dawn's golden head was peeking over the horizon when Belle, Baelfire and Henry burst into Father Time's magical clearing. Nothing stirred, only the incessant chorus of ticking from the cottage filled the silence.

The windows were shuttered, the door was locked; could the old man be asleep? Belle began banging on the door as loud as she could. They had the star dial and traveled (slowly) all night to return it and Belle's patience had finally run out.

"Open up!" Belle would bang down the door if she had to. "I know you're in there, Simon."

"I think she finally lost it." Henry whispered.

"It's the crack of dawn, Belle, calm down." Baelfire tried to put a comforting hand on her shoulder but Belle shrugged it off.

Grumbling, a scowl puckering his already much wrinkled face, Father Time, still in his bed clothes, threw open the door and jumped out of the way before Belle bowled him over.

"How did you get into the clearing without me?" Simon grumbled.

"You left the door open." She thrust the crushed velvet sack into his gnarled hands and threw herself onto a dining chair. "We got your star dial back. Now send us home."

Simon examined the dial, checking the jewel settings and hands but mostly stroking it lovingly. Eyes closed and oblivious to a stony faced Belle, he clasped the dial to his chest and then slipped it into a pajama pocket.

"I'm sorry what?" Simon asked, blank faced as though he had forgotten the deal; Henry ducked behind Baelfire before Belle lost her temper.

"You said you could send us home, Simon, if we retrieved your stupid trinket." Her words were measured but said through clenched teeth.

"Oh. Yes, I can send you and the boy back. I didn't say anything about picking up men in the forest. Rumpelstiltskin won't like that very much."

"This is his son, Baelfire." She growled; tired of the forest, of sprites and sirens, ogres, old men and clocks, Belle was three steps from meltdown mode. The question that remained was what form it would take. Would it be destructive and end with her trashing hundreds of priceless clocks or would she just scream and cry like a child? Both scenarios were equally appealing.

"Son, eh?" Simon echoed, absently patting at the pocket with the star dial in it; his mind was a million miles away.

"Yes, son." She snapped, fed up with his Gollum-like behavior. "Could you forget about that stupid dial for just _one_ minute and send us back to Storybrooke?"

Frowning and mumbling something about preparation, the old man shuffled upstairs to his workshop leaving the trio to their own devices. Both Henry and Bae kept a respectful, but wary, distance from her, pretending to be interested in the cuckoo clocks near the bookshelves. Embarrassed by her behavior, Belle laid her head on the table, letting her hair form a curtain over her face. After a few awkward minutes, Father Time reappeared to usher them to his cluttered workroom.

"Simon, I'm sorry-" she offered to the back of his head while he was bent over the heavy wooden table that dominated the space.

Turning back around, he grinned dangerously, a silver sickle knife gleaming in his hand. "It's fine, Belle, really. I didn't expect you to understand." he took a slow, deliberate step toward them, bursting into laughter as they tried to step away. "You really think I'm going to hurt you?" Simon snorted and shook his head. "Children."

Father Time raised the sickle knife above his head and plunged it into empty air, slicing downward to the floorboards. The knife left a faint golden light in its wake, similar to the light they had seen before Simon had first let them into his home. He backed away and the four of them watched in silence as the magic intensified, the light burning as bright as a star; the magic split the air, creating a shimmering portal large enough to walk through.

"I'm not sure where in Storybrooke this will take you since _someone_ was impatient." He explained, sparing a dirty look for Belle. "But hopefully it won't be anywhere too dangerous." Simon laughed at his poor joke. Bowing slightly at the waist with hand outstretched toward the portal, he beckoned for them to move through it. "Come along, children, it won't stay open forever."

That was all the invitation Henry needed as he bounded across the room and disappeared into the portal with Baelfire following close behind. Belle stared hesitantly at the light. She had already done enough tumbling between places.

"Deep breath, lady, this is the only way." The 'other' Belle coached and needled her into taking a step, but she couldn't leave yet. Not without apologizing first.

"Simon?" she paused before stepping through. "You have so many clocks and dials. What is so special about that one?"

A thin but genuine smile danced upon his lips and actually reached his faded blue eyes. "It was a gift. From Mother Nature." The way he lingered over the syllables of her name, the spark of life in his old eyes said all that Belle needed to know. He had been wrong, she _could_ understand; love was universal. Giving the surprised old man a quick, tight hug, Belle stepped through the portal without regret.

**End of Part Two**


	12. Chapter 12

The other side of the portal brought Belle to the field next to the elementary school gymnasium where the whole debacle had started. Baelfire and Henry were brushing the snow from their clothes and Belle shivered. The three exchanged eager looks and hurried toward the open side door.

"Mom! Gramps!" Henry cried, running ahead of them and disappearing into the school. She and Baelfire slipped inside, pulling the door shut behind them.

A joyous reunion was already in progress as Henry was smothered by his mother, grandparents _and_ Granny all at the same time. If they weren't careful they would bring new meaning to the phrase 'love you to death'. Belle leaned against the cool cinder block wall, exhaustion crashing over her. The boisterous voices seemed to be growing fainter and the world around her seemed fuzzy. No one could blame her if she were to have just a little nap; Belle slid slowly down the wall to the floor.

"Hey!" Red's voice was louder than the rest as though she were sitting on Belle's shoulder and shouting straight into her ear. Her hand clamped down on Belle's arm and pulled her back to her feet. "Oh my gosh, where have you been? We've been worried sick." She pulled Belle into a crushing hug.

"It's a long story." Belle buried her face in Red's soft sweater, overwhelmed with relief to be back in Storybrooke and safe. Red gave her a reassuring squeeze and then released her to embrace Baelfire in a similar manner. Belle smirked and made a note to never ask a werewolf for a bear hug.

She scanned the crowd for the one face she wanted to see most of all but Rumpelstiltskin was nowhere to be seen; her heart sank. Perhaps he was not needed at the moment; Rumpel would rather swallow glass than hang out among the townspeople just for fun.

"He said he was going home." Red murmured in her ear and giving Belle one final vise-like squeeze. "Come on, I'll drive you guys home."

They followed Red outside to the big, old car parked around the side of the building. It was dark in Storybrooke and cold, the bitter air stung Belle's bare legs, the dress Simon had given here was inadequate for chilly nights, let alone actual winter. In her hurry to get home, she had overlooked dressing for the climate before arriving. Red retrieved fleece blankets from the emergency kit in the trunk and handed them to Belle and Bae.

"Shotgun." Baelfire declared, hopping in the passenger side. He looked ridiculous wrapped in the light pink blanket. Belle climbed into the back and slumped down in the seat, wrapping her legs with her own blanket.

One minute they were parked at the school and the next minute Red was pulling up in front of the imposing Victorian. Belle must have dozed off; 'time travelling' Henry would have called it. Home. She felt re-energized at the sight of it. There had been a few times out in the forest she thought she would never see home again. Mumbling 'thank yous', she and Bae climbed out of the car and hurried up the walkway to the dark house. Did Rumpelstiltskin really go home as Red had said?

Bae fished keys from his satchel that Red must have kept in the car and pushed open the front door, both trying to squeeze through at the same time. They stumbled through the doorway into the front hall. Belle dashed up the stairs, half intent on her flannel pajamas but mostly looking for Rumpelstiltskin. Bursting through the bedroom door she found him hunched over on the bed, their chipped tea cup in his hands. She was across the room and in his arms before he knew what happened.

"I'm so sorry." she whispered into his neck, fighting back the tears. Rumpelstiltskin set the cup on the bed and just held her tighter. The floor creaked under Baelfire's weight and his father reached out, pulling his son next to him on the bed. A sob caught in Rumpelstiltskin's throat and his shoulders shook. Belle tried to pull away to give him some breathing room but she didn't get that far; Rumpel pulled her close, his arm about her waist.

"Where?" he croaked, tears spilling down stubbled cheeks.

"It's a long story." Belle and Bae answered in unison.

Giving his father's shoulder a squeeze, Bae excused himself to bed, mumbling that they would talk about it in the morning and to her surprise, Rumpelstiltskin followed him out; something about making her some tea. Left alone, Belle fell back onto the bed, sighing hugely. To be home again, in this room, in this bed, was a relief she couldn't even describe. There was no doubt in Belle's mind that he would lose his temper over their disappearance but for now, she would enjoy the quiet that came with his overwhelming relief. Crossing to the dresser, she rummaged around, fingers closing around the flannel pajamas. Yanking them out triumphantly, Belle had them on and was under the bed covers so fast it could have been magic.

The door clicked shut behind a Rumpelstiltskin bearing steaming mugs of tea. Belle took the offered mug, relishing the heat on her skin before setting it carefully on the bedside table. They sat in silence, the chipped cup lying between them.

"I think you owe me a good explanation." Rumpelstiltskin broke the silence, his voice dangerously quiet.

Belle fidgeted, messing with the pillows behind her. Explaining everything that happened in the last week seemed as unfathomable as the deepest sea; it wasn't as though Belle _hadn't_ thought of what to say, she just hadn't decided on _how_ to say it.

"Henry went running after the 'army' when the battle started." she said to the hands folded in her lap. "I didn't think. I just took off after him, convinced that I could catch a twelve year old before he ran into trouble." Belle slid into the pillows in an attempt to shield herself from the coming explosion but silence hung in the room as he waited for her to continue. "A - a nightmare beast caught him and - I can't explain it. I attacked the beast and it snatched me instead - then Regina found us and -" her voice shook and she trailed off. Instead of shouting or scolding, Rumpelstiltskin drew her to him, running long fingers through her thick hair; lips lightly brushed her forehead and, with her eyes closed, Belle managed to stammer through the rest of the story, not stopping until she had found Henry on the beach. "You're angry."

His fingers traced the contours of her face over and over as though it would burn her image into an inerasable memory. "Yes, I was angry - _am_ angry, but I'm more relieved that you're here and safe." Soft kisses followed the same path his fingers had traveled. His lips found her own; a kiss full of welcome.

"There's more to this story, you know." Belle whispered, kissing the tip of Rumpelstiltskin's nose. His arms wrapped around her, crushing her to his chest and murmuring something about 'later'. Bell drifted off, grateful for her love, the warmth and the comfort.


	13. Chapter 13

The fading sunlight of the late winter afternoon glinted off the fresh snowfall and shone through the windows, casting deep shadows around Rumpelstiltskins' study. The low, murmuring voices of Prince James and the sorcerer reminded Belle of the steady drone of a bee hive except their voices were punctuated with the higher tones of Snow White and fiery Granny. Ensconced in a comfortable reading chair on the other side of the room, Belle had to strain to make out what the others were saying, but nestled under several fleece blankets, with a book and a glass of wine at her side, she didn't much care either. Red was stretched out on the rug in front of her, enjoying the cool room, or so she claimed.

Three days, or maybe it was four, had passed since her return to Storybrooke and neither she nor Rumpelstiltskin had stirred from the house. Baelfire popped in and out on errands for the Charmings or the odd chore for his father, which left her pretty much alone with her husband and his undivided attention. Save for using the bathroom, the other side of the room was as far away as he had let her go from his side. Not that it was a _bad_ thing; Belle could feel the blood rise in her face and she turned her head to hide a smile from Red.

"Henry was telling us that Father Time sent you to retrieve some kind of keepsake of his from the ogres? And that you wouldn't let him go see or help fight any ogres." Red propped herself up on her elbows. "He was _very_ put out."

Alarmed, Belle put a finger to her lips, warning her friend to be quiet. She had made several attempts to relate the rest of her journey to Rumpelstiltskin but he sidetracked her every time; ogres were something she'd rather him hear about from her. Across the room, the conversation continued.

"So what are they discussing now?" Changing the topic, Belle pried herself from the nest of blankets and wandered to the sofa where she could hear them better; Snow White gave her a warm smile.

"I don't know where you expect to find the extra soldiers launching another attack would require." Rumpelstiltskin focused his annoyance fully on James.

"Well do you have any _better _ideas? Can't you just – raise some zombies or _conjure_ some up for us?" The prince wiggled his fingers in the sorcerer's face.

"I am _not _a necromancer." Rumpelstiltskin replied testily, slapping James' hand away. Sighing, Belle rolled her eyes at her husband who gave her a look as if to say 'what? I'm not'.

"Another offensive on Regina?" she asked, turning to Snow and Granny. "That's a poor idea even if we had the manpower. She's in a highly fortified position." Belle said thoughtfully, unaware that all eyes were now on her. "We need to lure her away from her powerbase – get her out into the open."

"Yes, but how?" James murmured, staring at the charts scattered across Rumpelstiltskin's desk.

"What about a party?" Belle suggested jokingly; it was too obvious, even a monkey would know it was a set up.

"Yes!" Red jumped up, her face alight with excitement. "She's a total gate crasher; I bet she'd love to ruin our good time."

"It would be more about making her think that we're vulnerable and she has the upper hand than gate crashing." Belle tried to correct her friend but no one heard her over the excited voices of Red, Snow and Granny making plans for a party. The prince had donned his coat, gathered his things and headed for the door; the women had spoken and his input was no longer required. Still seated at his desk, Rumpelstiltskin simply smirked.

The meeting pretty much over, Belle followed the ladies to the door, helping Snow and Granny into their coats; they smiled their thanks, now discussing the food and drink and eager to get the Blue Fairy in on the planning. Perhaps they missed her point about this being a trap for Regina.

"He doesn't know about the ogres yet, does he?" Red whispered from behind Belle.

"No, not yet." She answered, her voice low. "I've tried to tell him the whole story but I never get very far before he distracts me."

"Distracts you-" Red looked at her quizzically. "Oh – oh! Never mind. So what _did_ happen with the ogres? Don't worry, we'll talk later." She smiled apologetically at Belle's hesitation. Their goodbyes said, the trio followed James out into the winter twilight.

Silence at last. Belle went to put the kettle on, gazing out at the glistening snow as she waited for the water to boil. She wondered if Dug was safe and hoped his brothers did not punish him for letting the 'little thing' go. Maybe they wouldn't even notice. And Simon in love; and with _Mother Nature_ no less. She'd never considered the possibility that Mother Nature was an actual woman, though Simon never indicated either way. Time and Nature; it did seem terribly cliché now that she'd thought about it.

The clink of cups on the countertop brought Belle back to the kitchen; Rumpelstiltskin finished preparing the tea she had forgotten about.

"Where have you been, dearie? The kettle has been whistling for ages." he swept a piece of hair from her face. "Now, what did I hear about ogres?"

Belle looked up in surprise. "Red doesn't speak as quietly as she might think." He explained, following her, with their cups, into the study.

"Father Time sent Henry and I after a treasure of his. Said that there was a gang of ogres in the area and they had it."

Rumpelstiltskin stared into his tea and waited as she settled on the sofa. "What sort of treasure?" he prompted after a moment.

"A personal treasure, I later found out." Belle paused, taking a careful sip. "A jeweled star dial. He promised to send us home if we retrieved it."

A smile tugged at the corners of Rumpelstiltskin's mouth but his eyes were dark and unreadable. "Did it ever occur to you to _force_ him to send you home?"

"_Some_ of us _try_ to be good to others." She retorted and he had no quip for that. "I thought he needed the dial to send us back." Belle felt troubled by the apparent depth of her naivety.

"If a _drop_ of magic had fallen into ogre hands, I doubt Father Time would have sent you and a twelve year old boy after it."

Belle hunched over on the sofa's edge with her arms across her stomach. It could have been worse, he could have been yelling too.

"You _did_ bring all this on yourself." The 'other' Belle reminded her; thanks.

"Hey, what's the matter?" Rumpelstiltskin's voice had softened and he pulled her into his arms.

"Nothing. Just feeling – _really_ stupid right now."

"That was not my intention." He kissed her forehead. "Tell me about the ogres?"

Over the next hour, Belle recounted the story, pausing at times to answer Rumpel's questions about the land (forested, humid, and leafy), and the ogre camp (social structure of the gang? Belle had no idea) and things she noticed in Simon's workshop (a big mess). He was most intrigued by "her Dug" as he'd never heard of an ogre who could (or would) converse with a human.

It made her feel better that Dug was an anomaly and not even more evidence of her ignorance. If Rumpelstiltskin had told her that ogres were quite chummy, everyone knew that and he was meeting one for a pint later, Belle might've crawled under the bed in embarrassment.

"And then you arrived home in little more than a summer dress in sub-zero weather. I might have to have a talk with this Simon."

"That was more my fault than anyone's." she laughed nervously, explaining in greater detail the ending, her impatience and forcefulness that she had glossed over earlier. "Not one of my finer moments." Belle muttered, unheard over Rumpelstiltskin's laughter. "Well I'm glad you find it funny."

"Those days without you – without Bae – were hell." He said simply, the smile now gone. Hands on either side of his head, Belle kissed him soundly, slipping away from him before it could go any further. She cleared the tea cups and, ruffling his hair, trotted off to the kitchen to scavenge for their supper.


	14. Chapter 14

The Blue Fairy latched onto the party idea like it was water in the desert. In fact, the whole town reacted enthusiastically and not because they cared about luring the Evil Queen from her fortress. There were plenty of folks that preferred that Regina just stay where she was at and leave them alone. The people just needed a party, a chance to celebrate during a time where there had been little to celebrate. Belle went along with it and smiled when the others commended her on the suggestion; a genius idea, Dr. Hopper had exclaimed. She thought they were being silly; it was a party, not a shuttle launch.

Blue and the other fairies decided that the party should have a spring theme and eagerly dragged Belle onto the decorations committee with Red and Ella. Already on edge from visits from the Charmings and still not fond of the fairies, Rumpelstiltskin's jaw clenched tighter every time one of the fairy nuns came by. Pretty soon, Belle figured, he would crack; or he would grind all the bones in his face to dust.

The morning of the party found Belle at home, still fumbling her way through the last of the tissue paper rosettes, her fingers stained by the cheap dye and scotch tape stuck to her blouse; she had never been super at crafts to start with and now she was years out of practice. Their kitchen table looked more like a trash heap than a spring garden.

"What are these supposed to be?" Rumpelstiltskin picked up one of the more 'abstract' rosettes, eyeing her handiwork critically but amusement played around the corners of his mouth.

"Real funny." She muttered, securing a blossom with a twist-tie and a piece of tape.

"So, I've been thinking-" he sat across from her, the pile of finished rosettes in front of him.

"You often do."

"I've been thinking," Rumpelstiltskin began again, ignoring her comment. "That we should move back to the Enchanted Forest."

Rolling her eyes, Belle swept the roll of tissue paper and scissors to the other side of the table. It was not the first time (or even the second) Rumpelstiltskin had brought the subject up.

"We've had this discussion before and I like indoor plumbing." The Dark Castle was lovely but it was still a _castle_; drafty, big and decidedly _not_ modern.

"Dark Castle is much safer than remaining in Storybrooke." He frowned, flicking the deformed rosette across the table to join its better looking kin.

"But you're needed _here_ and I'm not staying there alone when you are here, inevitably." Belle ran her dye stained fingers lightly across his hand. "We can talk about it again once we've captured Regina."

"Once we've captured-" Rumpelstiltskin looked at her strangely. "You mean once she's dead."

Her fingers paused above the blue stone of his ring. "Not exactly, no. Is that what you're planning? To kill Regina?" Belle drew away from him and a hint of the 'old' Rumpel glinted in his eyes. Belle shivered; not that the 'old' Rumpel had ever truly gone away.

"If you were in the Enchanted Forest, I could focus on taking her out."

"I was just there; I don't want to go back. And are you _nuts_?"

The 'other' Belle wondered if that question was really necessary; of course he was nuts and she knew it.

"Belle, it'll never end if she-"

"I _know_" she shouted. Rumpelstiltskin stared, stunned by her outburst. "I know." She repeated in a softer voice. "But why does it have to be you?"

"Because I-"

"Planned all of this." Belle cut him off. "The dark curse, bringing Emma here to break it, you somehow orchestrated all of it. But can't you just let this one thing go? Haven't you wrought enough death and destruction?"

"I _will_ see this through, Belle!"

"You wanted to _find_ _Baelfire_ and you _have_. Killing Regina wasn't the plan and you know it."

"And _you_ were supposed to be dead." Rumpelstiltskin sneered. "But here you are. Plans change! They evolve!"

Wide eyed, Belle concentrated on deep, steady breaths to keep calm in spite of the hurtful remark; he was just tired and agitated. Objectivity was hard when it felt like someone had stomped on her heart and punched her lungs. "Then why can't you change and evolve this plan? Why not Emma? She's the savior after all. Why does it always have to be you?"

Rumpelstiltskin grabbed her by the wrist as she made a move to leave the room. Shaking her head, Belle gently pulled away. "You hurt my feelings." She said simply and left before he could have a chance to apologize or even react.

* * *

The large conference room of the town hall had been transformed from white walls and plain floors to a floral, fairy bower in the matter of just a few hours. Tissue paper flowers draped across long tables, ropes of them hung from the ceiling and from the walls. Everything shimmered slightly, a touch of fairy magic.

In a simple, off-the-shoulder purple gown, Belle wove her way through the increasing crowd, waving to Red and Baelfire as she passed. The guests were a burst of colours in thin, warm weather finery in spite of the late winter cold. In a corner one of the fairies, Nova, hovered around the disc jockey as he cued up the music and soon the hum of conversation was drown out by the thump of whatever the thin, beady eyed jockey thought passed for popular music.

Belle inspected the refreshment tables, the punch bowls and platters of finger foods seemed to be all in order. The tea light candles in the big centerpiece, however, were unlit. She had given Nova just one task: light the candles, but Belle figured something shiny must have crossed Nova's path on her way to the table. She patted uselessly at her sides, remembering that the gown had no pockets; no lighter or matches in sight either. Leaning over the table, Belle closed her eyes, whispering her intention to the first unlit candle. The flame sprang to life upon the wick, warming her cheek and Belle felt a swell of satisfaction.

"I didn't know you could do magic." Snow White's voice at her back startled her. Belle whirled around to see Snow's bewildered expression. Emma stood a few paces behind her mother with Henry at her side.

"I'm just learning." Belle mumbled.

"No way! Belle's awesome!" Henry exclaimed and Belle shot him a Look; _not_ helping, kid.

"Nova forgot to light the candles and I didn't have any matches.." She babbled, trying to ignore Emma's disapproving stare.

Snow slipped the matches her daughter handed her into Belle's hand and continued meandering through the crowd with her family on her heels. Why did minor magic make everyone so edgy? Surely she wasn't the only one who noticed the shimmer of fairy dust in the room. Whatever; she finished with the matches and moved into the crowd as the dancing started. All around her couples twirled and swayed in a dance that was more appropriate for a waltz than a rock song.

"Care to dance, my lady?" Rumpelstiltskin didn't wait for an answer before taking her in his arms and spinning her back onto the dance floor. They hadn't seen one another since their argument that morning and Belle was slightly surprised that Rumpelstiltskin had come; lurking in the darkness and stalking his prey seemed to be higher on his to-do list. He danced them into a corner near the entrance where they could see everyone and those still arriving. Without preamble, he pulled her into a passionate kiss that burned away all of her earlier anger.

"You can't just – kiss away my anger, Rumpel." Belle lied, breaking away from the embrace.

"I'm – I'm sorry if I upset you." His arms circled her waist, his lips trailing lightly down her neck and bare shoulder; warmth spread from her lower abdomen throughout her body and any thoughts there may have been left her head. With one last kiss, Rumpelstiltskin smiled then released her.

"Forgiven." Her voice was shaky but he was already focused on something over her shoulder. Following his gaze across the room to the entrance where Regina stood, beautifully robed, well coiffed and flanked by a small group of guards. Their guest of honour had arrived.

The song had ended but the couples on the dance floor had stopped dancing long before, frozen in each other's arms, wide eyes fixed on the Evil Queen. Shadows inched along the walls as some of Charming's soldiers moved into position. Belle turned to Rumpelstiltskin but he had gone, leaving her alone in the corner; she made her way carefully into the crowd, ducking behind some of the taller guests. There was no trace of Rumpelstiltskin.

"Why was I not invited?" Regina's deep and melodious voice filled the room.

"Maybe it was lost in the mail." One of the dwarves, Grumpy, quipped.

Murmurs among the guests built into a low hum as though they thought the queen was actually expecting an answer. Belle glanced from side to side; which way to go? Red caught her eye and motioned for Belle to join her near the back exit. A crappy, pounding dance beat shook the room as the DJ tried to get the party back on track. Though still wary of Regina and the guards she brought with her, the couples on the dance floor started to move again and conversations resumed.

"Where's my father?" Baelfire shouted from the darkness of the hallway.

"I lost him." Belle frowned. "He thinks he's going to kill the queen."

A string of curses tumbled from Bae's lips and he shook off Red's comforting touch.

"But if he does it means that the rest of us won't have to." Red offered, looking a bit confused. "He _is_ the Dark One, after all. Isn't that his M.O.?"

"It doesn't mean we want him to keep killing, though." Belle said stonily, Baelfire's dark expression mirroring her own. "If killing her is the only way, shouldn't the savior do it?"

"Sure, I guess so." Red shrugged as Bae disappeared into the hallway to search the building for his father.

An awkward half hour passed as Regina mingled her way around the room, making small talk, sipping punch and acting as if she were the hostess. Belle watched as the evil queen approached the Charmings, all three of whom were rigid in posture. From behind his mother, Henry appeared and Regina's face softened for a moment, her love for the boy still obvious even from where Belle stood. Baelfire had still not returned; the town hall was not a big building and there were only so many places Rumpelstiltskin could have been. Worried for both men now, Belle slipped down the hallway unnoticed.

Upstairs the music was muted, a dull throbbing beat felt through the cold floor; Belle wished she had remembered a shawl. Wandering the dark hallways, she peeked in any rooms that were unlocked and listened intensely at the locked doors, trying to hear over the party music. Feet aching and chilled, she sat on a table in an unused office, rubbing her arms in a vain attempt to warm up. Rumpelstiltskin probably wasn't in the building anymore; what had led her upstairs, she had no idea.

The blast shook the building as Belle was descending a back staircase and she lost her footing, sliding down the last few stairs on her backside. Pounding feet and the clank of armor announced the evil queen's guards before she saw them, stomping through the front entryway to throw the doors open for Regina and Henry.

From the basement stairwell, Baelfire came running past. "Come on, Belle!" he shouted on his way out the door after the escaping queen and true to form, Belle followed him into the snowy night without thinking.


	15. Chapter 15

Around the building and to the back they ran, sliding across the unsalted walkways in pursuit of the Evil Queen. Belle and her stepson skidded to a stop, arriving in time to see Rumpelstiltskin attack the queen. Magic, fiery and dragon-like, roared towards Regina and her soldiers from his outstretched hand and her men scattered, running for the trees. Those who did not make it lay prostate and smoking in the snow, red blood staining the fresh white. Regina and Henry were unaffected beneath the intense glow of a magic shield the colour of nightshade. The boy's terror was palpable and Belle's heart ached; how could Rumpelstiltskin do this with a child in the way?

His face twisted with frustration, Rumpelstiltskin raised his arms again to make another attempt on the queen. Belle lurched forward, intending to go to Henry, to try to reach him and, somehow, coax him to safety but Baelfire's hand grabbed her bare shoulder and yanked her back to his side. A stern look and the protest died on her lips.

A glance their way threw the wizard off his guard and the resolve in his face flickered for the briefest moment but it was long enough for Regina to gather the power she had been using to protect herself and lob it at Rumpelstiltskin. Before he had even hit the ground, Belle had torn herself away from Baelfire and was on the move through the snow in her wet dance slippers. The smell of burnt flesh filled her nose, her supper tried to rise in her throat but then there was an unfamiliar weight, a sword from one of the fallen, in her hand and with a guttural cry that she hardly recognized Belle launched herself at the evil queen.

From her forward momentum, Belle was suddenly flying backwards, never reaching her target and the sword fell from her hands as she hit the ground hard; pain shot through her back and the air left her lungs momentarily. More feet crunched through the snow, sounding miles away in her ears though she could see movement out of the corner of her eye.

"Hey!" a man that sounded like Prince Charming shouted and the sounds of battle again erupted; a lop-sided battle between incredible dark magic and disadvantaged might.

Belle gasped, finally able to breathe, her lungs filling with the cold air. The snow had soaked the back of her gown and numbed her bare skin; she shivered. Slight movement to her left caught her eye and Belle turned her head slightly; Rumpelstiltskin lay no more than ten feet away. If she couldn't get to Henry, she could at least reach her husband. Rolling over onto her front side, Belle dragged herself across the ground, ignoring the screams and groans of Charming's men as they fell beneath the evil queen's magic.

Dark bruises had blossomed on Rumpelstiltskin's cheeks and blood trickled from a corner of his mouth and glistened in his hair. Belle's heart sank and her throat constricted, choking off a sob. Patting his sides, her fingers checking suit jacket pockets until they found a handkerchief, Belle dabbed at the blood on his mouth, unsure of what to do and willing him to wake up.

More soldiers from inside had run out after their Prince and quickly fell underneath Regina's assault. Taking her eyes off Rumpelstiltskin for just a moment, Belle noted numbly that the queen looked to be winning this battle singlehandedly. Regina had managed to fall back to the tree line and must have sent Henry into the forest for Belle could no longer find him. Belle frowned at the bloody cloth in her hands; if only he had just waited.

"Belle?" the beat up wizard croaked, taking a ragged breath, his brown eyes now open and dulled by pain. "What -"

"Shush now." she whispered, wiping at the trickle of blood that had started to curl around his ear. Emma had arrived to the impromptu battle though Belle hadn't noticed precisely when. Rage and fear were etched heavily into her face, aging her and her fingers were wrapped tightly around the hilt of her father's sword.

"Can you move?" Belle murmured into Rumpelstiltskin's ear, hoping he could so that they could get out of the way and find medical attention. His eyes had fluttered shut again and his breathing was shallow; Belle shook him vigorously.

Emma had engaged the evil queen, somehow deflecting Regina's attacks with just the sword; since when was Charming's sword enchanted? She was on the offensive now, advancing on her foe who for the first time that evening, looked worried. Belle could see the heroine's lips moving but could not make out the words. The world was starting to feel fuzzy again and she considered curling up next to Rumpelstiltskin and having a nap.

Soft hands on her shoulders, the body heat was searing against her numb skin as it was shocked back to life. Red hoisted her to her feet and, draping Belle's arm around her neck, helped her to the crowd of townspeople that had gathered.

"Rumpel-" Belle cried, suddenly agitated, twisting around to look for her injured husband.

"Hush, darling. Bae has him." Red soothed, wrapping a warm, heavy blanket around her.

Granny and one of the doctors from the hospital had been brought over and began checking her over, forcing hot broth down her throat. Baelfire arrived with his father slung over his shoulder just as another magic explosion rocked the area. The doctor moved onto Rumpelstiltskin, having determined that Belle's injuries were minor; Granny forced her down as she tried to follow the doctor to where Rumpel lay on the ground.

"He's going to be fine, Belle." Granny said gruffly; Belle noted the crossbow near the older woman's feet and decided to stay put.

A high pitched screech, like a banshee's wail, pierced the air just then and Belle looked up to see the sword embedded deep in Regina's chest, red blossoming, soaking her dress. Several feet away, Emma stood panting and Henry tumbled out of the woods in great distress.

Eyes wide with shock, the queen fell to her knees. Emma approached, unsure of what to do now that she had bested her enemy. With an imploring look, Regina tried to gesture to the sword; hesitantly as though hoping she'd understood correctly, Emma grasped the hilt and pulled it out. The Evil Queen fell forward, her blood spilling over the snow, pooling around her face, staining her chin. Crying hysterically, Henry tried to throw himself on the body but Emma caught him, holding him tight to her chest.

Belle watched the scene, stunned and frozen with everyone else. Henry had lost a mother, killed by his mother. What a messed up scenario. The prince and Snow White ran out to join the morbid tableau and with a pained look, James draped his velvet cloak over the queen's lifeless body.

Relieved that it was at an end but not wanting to rejoice in another's death all the same, Belle hung her head and wiped away the tears. She could hardly believe it; Regina Mills was dead.

**End of Part Three**


	16. Epilogue

**Epilogue**

Late spring sun, warm and sweet, kissed Belle's arms and face and danced through the newly blooming trees at the edge of the forest. A breeze whispered through the fabric of her skirt and around her ankles. Smiling ruefully, she laid a small bouquet of roses atop a simply marked grave. Two months had passed since the war had ended with Regina's death and she had been laid to rest here at the edge of the Storybrooke forest at Henry's insistence. Mourners had been few and as far as Belle knew, Henry had been the only one that visited this quiet little spot. When Emma sent her son to live with his grandparents in the Enchanted Forest, perhaps to help ease his grief, Henry brought Belle here and asked if she would bring flowers in his stead. Though it made her apprehensive and displeased Rumpelstiltskin, Belle couldn't say no to her young friend. It wouldn't be for much longer. The injuries Rumpelstiltskin had sustained in his fire fight with the evil queen turned out to be minor and he recovered quickly; Belle suspected he suffered more from a bruised ego than anything. He was restless and irritable these days and once he promised to have indoor plumbing installed, Belle acquiesced to a move to the Dark Castle.

"Hey." A soft voice from behind startled her from her reverie. She whirled around, facing her husband, who leaned heavily on the cane and looked more than a little bit tired. "You done here? We have a lot of packing to do." He waved dismissively at the headstone.

She nodded, slipping her arm through his. There was little purpose in keeping the pawn shop open and they had been working together to pack it all up to take back to the Enchanted Forest. Belle had suggested to Rumpel that they should return some of the items to their rightful owners, but that idea had gone over like a lead balloon. They walked down the faint path to the road in silence, Belle enjoying the scent of flowers on the breeze.

"You seem terribly pleased with yourself." He muttered, agitated by her good mood.

"Just because you're grouchy and pissed off all the time doesn't mean I have to be." Belle glanced over; Rumpelstiltskin's lips were set in a thin line, his shoulders stiff. "Bae is due back tonight, right?" She began planning the dinner menu in her head.

The corners of his mouth turned slightly upward and his posture relaxed. Baelfire had followed the Prince and Snow White back to the Enchanted Forest, eager to be of use to them but breaking his father's heart; Bae was a grown man and she wasn't sure why Rumpel expected him to stay with them. Fortunately, he came to Storybrooke often, sent by Prince James with messages for Emma and he would always spend the evening with his father.

She stepped into the circle of his arms, studying his face, which was mostly unchanged save for the fine white scar above one of his eyes, a souvenir from Regina's parting shot. "When are you going to come back to me, Rumpel?" She stared intently at him, her hands upon his shoulders.

"I'm right here." He joked, avoiding the real question.

"You seem very lost to me."

Rumpelstiltskin drew her against him and pressed his lips to her forehead; more avoidance tactics. She kept very still, careful not to respond to the affection, waiting for him to spill.

"I _am_ lost, Belle." He murmured, a frown flickered across his face. "I – I spent _so_ long chasing after Bae that I don't have a focus anymore."

"I thought it might be something like that." She stared at his tie, absently wondering how he could dress so stuffily on such a nice day. "I guess it really is all over now."

"There's nothing left –"

"You will find your way, Rumpel, and you still have me." She said dryly; it never hurt to remind him of that.

"I know, but – no _goals_."

"It's all right, I understand. I do – but I wouldn't say there's _nothing_ left." Belle smiled shyly, remembering the secret that she'd yet to share with him. It had been a couple of days since the physician confirmed the suspicions that grew from weeks of queasy mornings and tender places; Belle had kept quiet though, wanting to relish the knowledge by herself for a bit.

"What _is_ left, then?" Rumpelstiltskin was nose to nose with her, his brown eyes full of curiosity.

"I – I'm with –" she stammered but he wrapped her into a crushing embrace before she could finish. "Anyway – now you can plan out the little one's life to your heart's content, to the tiniest detail, until you drive him nuts." Belle's voice trailed away.

Tilting her face up, Rumpelstiltskin kissed her softly and then released her. Wordlessly, Belle took his offered arm and together they returned to town, leaving the grief, anger and fear of the past sleeping in the soft earth of the forest.

**The End **


End file.
